


The Soulmate Principle: Fact or Folly

by musicvenom, Padfoots_Pawprint



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-15 03:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicvenom/pseuds/musicvenom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padfoots_Pawprint/pseuds/Padfoots_Pawprint
Summary: “I beg your pardon?” asked Professor Coran after a sizable pause. Lance grinned and leaned onto the arm resting on his desk.“If your soulmate dies before you meet them, do you get, like, a backup soulmate?”Lance and Keith have some very different opinions on soulmates, an old principle that has lost steam and belief over time. Lance, the believer, and Keith, the skeptic, become friends and maybe something more in this slowburn college AU.





	1. I'm Not Sure, But I Bet It's Keith's Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The anger started to boil in the pit of Lance’s stomach. He had to confront the problem. He had to find Keith.

The room had a silence about it. With the lecture hall thick and full of unparalleled student confusion, Lance McClain found himself the center of attention (his not-so-secret goal all along) and waited patiently for an answer. All eyes were on him, and Lance didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Hunk and Pidge, both of whom sat on either side of their friend, seemed to have mixed reactions. Hunk was shaking his head slowly as if slightly in awe that Lance had asked the question while an unaffected Pidge continued to type away on the computer.

“I beg your pardon?” asked Professor Coran after a sizable pause. Lance grinned and leaned onto the arm resting on his desk.

“If your soulmate dies before you meet them, do you get, like, a backup soulmate?”

A couple of rows back, Keith’s ears began to tingle. It was as if that one word had burned itself into his skin ever since he first heard Lance grumble about his soulmate, or lack thereof for that matter. The question was why he always felt so uncomfortable every time those words escaped Lance’s lips. It was a topic that garnered rather paradoxical thoughts within Keith’s mind. On one hand, he was drawn to the concept of soulmates, but at the same time, the idea of being lucky enough to be paired with your “match made in heaven” seemed improbable.

Professor Coran looked more confused than ever. The TAs in the front row exchanged a look. “I meant questions about the midterm.”

“I know, but I figured that this was an equally as important question.”

The frown that worked its way onto the professor’s face was all too familiar as he sighed, curtly turning his attention away from Lance and towards the rest of the class. “Are there any _other_ questions? Preferably about the astronomy midterm that you will _all_ be writing next Thursday.”

Some of the other students shuffled in their seats, Keith included. A few keen girls at the front raised their hand and inquired about a star formation question while Keith checked the time on his phone. The numbers on the brightly lit screen indicated that class was almost over. From his perch, the two standard rows away from Lance he always chose to sit, he could see the boy turn and grin at Hunk who merely rolled his eyes.

“You should really chill with the soulmate questions, man,” he was saying as Lance made a show of opening his water bottle. “I think you’ve asked that question in every single class we’ve had this week.”

“I don’t ask it in _every_ class,” Lance began, the water bottle inches from his mouth.

“Yes, you do,” Keith mumbled under his breath at the same time that Pidge confirmed that very same fact. He glanced at his phone a second time. Two more minutes left. Could the seconds be ticking away any slower?

“It’s kind of getting ridiculous,” said Pidge. “I mean, we have midterms in less than a week. How can you possibly ignore the pressing exam stress and complain about how you haven’t found a soulmate?”  

“Hey hey, come on now. I’m not complaining,” Lance huffed as he used his sleeve to wipe at the stray drop of water that had trickled outside the corner of his mouth. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Pidge scoffed and crossed her arms. “Ha, curious my ass. We all know you’ve been infatuated with the idea of having a soulmate ever since you found out they existed.”

“I’m dedicated, Pidge," said Lance with dramatized pride, "there’s a difference.”

“I don’t know,” said Hunk, his pen still copying the sequence Professor Coran was detailing on the board. “Infatuated is the nice way of saying it. Obsessed is the _other_ word.”

“You guys are supposed to be helping me, not making me feel stupid,” Lance playfully whined.

“I just want you to prioritize,” said Pidge calmly.

“And _I_ just want you to stop talking about it every time we hang out.” Lance frowned at the undercurrent of annoyance in Hunk’s voice. It was light but still telling. “It’s bad enough that you mention it in classes. You’re passionate about it, and that’s great, but sometimes, when we get back to our apartment, I kind of just want to talk about video games or the latest episode of _Master Chef_.”

“Besides,” added Pidge, “you always get the same answer.”

That much was true. As much as Keith understood where Lance’s friends were coming from (and he honestly was sick of the soulmate questions too), the answers to Lance’s question never changed. It was either a curt “please stay on topic, Mr. McClain,” or “I don’t think that’s an appropriate question”.

Lance couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Not this again. He mentally prepared himself for the earful he knew he was going to be getting.

“Listen, my amigos, my ride or dies,” Lance started, “it’s not my fault that I want to find my soulmate, okay? Doesn’t the idea of a person who is literally your match made in heaven sound the least bit appealing to you? I’d just appreciate it if you guys didn’t lecture me about it every single damn time I bring it up.”

“It’s not that we don’t think it’s appealing,” began Hunk slowly, “it’s just…”

“It’s just that you bring it up every four seconds,” Pidge said quickly, finishing Hunk’s sentence. She closed her laptop with a snap and slipped it into her bag. “And as much as we would love to see you all lovey-dovey with someone who can actually stand your pick-up lines, we’ve got our own lives to live. We have to be a little bit more realistic.”

Lance winced slightly at Pidge’s comment. Wow, that was a total jab at him if he ever heard one.

“You’ll find them, buddy,” Hunk interjected as he clapped Lance on the shoulder once he noticed his friend’s visibly dejected demeanor. “It’s written in the books that everyone has that special someone, right? It’s only a matter of _when_ you find them.”

Lance forced a small smile directed at Hunk. “Thanks, man.”

Just at that moment, Professor Coran’s announcement regarding the end of the class seemed to cut the tension mildly. “Alright, students, that is all for today. Just another reminder of the midterm that will take place next Thursday.”

Lance could have sworn that Professor Coran was looking right at him as he ended the announcement that was so-called supposed to be for the entire class.

“You coming to lunch, Lance? I heard that the cafeteria finally changed that green gloopy mess that we’ve been eating for the past two months to something _slightly_ more edible,” Hunk asked, eagerly changing the subject.

“Oh my god, finally! I was starting to get so sick of eating whatever mystery concoction that was,” Pidge chimed in with equal excitement. “Come on, Lance. Let’s go!”

Lance sat there quietly, his eyes staring vacantly around the now empty classroom. Something was a little off, but he wasn’t quite sure what.

“Helloooo. Earth to Lance,” Pidge said, swiftly waving her hands mere inches from his face.

“Oh. Right. Yeah, sorry. I’ll be there in a sec,” Lance responded after a few long seconds of processing what Pidge had even said. “Save me a seat, okay?”

Hunk flashed him a wink, clicked his tongue, and motioned towards him with finger guns. “You got it, dude.”

His two friends exited through the far door while Lance took his time packing the rest of his things up. Once finished, he hefted his bag onto his shoulders and quietly tapped down the stairs.

“Come on, shake it off. They’re just trying to be helpful,” Lance quietly whispered to himself as he walked towards the exit. Despite his best efforts, the words still stung and stubbornly lingered in his mind. That off feeling settled around him and had yet to dissipate.  

Just as Lance was about to make his way to the doors located in the back of the lecture hall, he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the two people through the window in the door. Frowning, he started to turn around. Though his angle was bad, he could still catch the impression of something vaguely familiar, and the closer he got, the more familiar the image became. Lance grit his teeth. “I’d know that mullet anywhere. But who else...”

He approached the door carefully. Surely, Keith was talking with someone. But, who was the second person? He crept closer and instinctively brought his hand towards the classroom door with the intention to push it open but quickly stopped short when he heard Takashi Shirogane’s voice, soft and compliant, from beyond the door. The words were slightly muffled and Lance hesitated on whether or not to interrupt or listen in. Would it be worth it? If he got caught eavesdropping, Shiro would undoubtedly fix him with the classic disappointed frown and a small lecture on the importance of privacy. The young TA had been a great help when Lance found questions particularly difficult and had always been willing to lend a helpful word of advice when needed. And yet…

Lance couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with Shiro and Keith talking privately. Possible topics of their conversations flitted through his mind and he felt his gut clench. He felt sick, but he couldn’t possibly fathom why until he remembered that Keith was always doing better than him in classes. Never mind the other classes they may or may not have shared, astronomy was Lance’s passion and Keith was leagues ahead in his grades. The idea came sneakily across his mind, one he had had only once before but only now reared its ugly head and made itself known.

Could Keith be cheating? The suggestion seemed impossible. Lance knew practically nothing about Keith with the exception of the fact that the boy was phenomenal at astronomy and had hair that was no bueno for the ladies, but something had to give. Was it possible for Keith to be convincing Shiro to mark his tests easier or, worse, to give him hints on the upcoming exam so as to beat out Lance once again?

Lance carded a hand through his short brown hair and let out an exhale of frustration. He was torn and suspicious and almost disappointed with himself for coming up with the suggestion, but the longer he thought about it, the more his mind took to the idea. Keith was cheating. It would explain the good grades and his frequent conversations with Shiro. Lance wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen Shiro and Keith talk outside of class more than a few times. When Lance went to Shiro’s office hours, Keith was almost always there already, talking away to Shiro about something astronomy related. His mind swirled with the theory and without the proof, it ballooned in his head, creeping into every half-formed thought he’d ever had about Keith.

What broke him out of his thoughts was what he thought to be his name. He pressed closer to the door and pulled it open just a fraction to try and hear what was being said. Lance caught the tail end of a line, Shiro’s voice giving out a quick, “-not quite enough.”

“I’m trying,” Keith said from beyond the door, “besides, you said you would help me.”

“And I’ll continue to help you,” said Shiro, “but knowledge is power. The more you know, the better. Just, here,” he passed something to Keith that rustled like a thin stack of papers. “I printed these off a couple nights ago. I’d recommend giving them a look over.”

“You make it sound like they’ll help with a test or something.”

“They’ll help,” said Shiro. “Let’s just put it that way.”

Lance pulled away from the door sharply. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind a mile a minute. Help? Test? Keith, with no doubt, was cheating and Shiro was aiding him. That had to be the answer. What else could Shiro possibly be trying to ‘help’ Keith with? What other topic could they possibly be discussing beside answers for the midterm? Keith was trying to cheat and Shiro, good guy that he was, was agreeing to help him and give him the answers? Were they hints to what would be on the test?

The phone buzzing in his pocket drew him away from the exit and he stumbled back. Lance scrambled for his phone as if Shiro and Keith would be able to hear the faint vibration of the cellphone on the other side of the door. There were two text messages from Hunk asking him what was taking him so long to return to them. Lance bit his lip and glanced between his cell phone and the door. If he left now, he might never know what exactly Keith and Shiro were discussing, but if he stayed, they would catch him and he would be in trouble. Fearing Shiro’s disappointment and his frustration for Keith settling in his chest, Lance reluctantly turned away and headed for the doors at the top of the lecture hall. He pulled out his phone to shoot a quick text message to Hunk, letting him know that he’d meet them in a couple minutes.

Maybe, if he slept on this knowledge, he’d be able to figure out what was going on. Maybe he’d be able to sort it out in his head, and possibly bounce some theories off of Hunk and Pidge and never think about it again. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions and that, with time, he’d be able to get over it.

* * *

Lance was unable to get over it. In the end, he had kept the knowledge to himself. The words played over and over in his head, ate away at him in between classes, during classes, and even when he tried to study. His genuine attempts to study in the library went sour after remembering Keith’s words. He just couldn’t shake them from his mind. _You make it sound like they’ll help with a test or something._ Lance closed his textbook a little too loudly, which garnered a slew of people shushing him. This was more than frustrating. With his head in his hands, Lance’s mind was reeling. He couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the conversation that took place between Keith and Shiro right outside the lecture room doors. Was there even a point to studying anymore if Keith was always going to get a higher mark? Lance put so much energy and effort into ensuring that he always came up with top marks, only to be beat by Keith freaking Kogane. The anger started to boil in the pit of Lance’s stomach. He had to confront the problem. He had to find Keith.

The legs of the chair screeched against the scuffed linoleum floor as he pushed away from the study cubicle. Lance winced as the piercing sound sent trickling shivers from his scalp to his spine. A number of students lifted their heads from their studies and shot Lance a disapproving look. Lance put up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving. Sheesh”. He threw his backpack over his shoulder and set out to find his nemesis. Okay, maybe nemesis was a strong word, but it sure as heck sounded more menacing than academic rival. Pushing through the exit door of the library, Lance made a mental list of the possible locations Keith could be. Cafeteria? Maybe. The study room? Maybe. The student life centre? Maybe. Pulling out his phone, Lance quickly tapped away and shot out a group message to Hunk and Pidge.

 **Lance** : - Started a Conversation in “It’s Pasture Bedtime” -

 **Lance  
** _yo guys, strange question, but do either of you know where Keith is right now?_

 **Hunk  
** _keith kogane?_

 **Pidge  
** _Isn’t that the guy with the mullet who sits behind us?_

 **Lance  
** _haha, yeah, him. You seen him around?_

 **Pidge  
** _why the sudden interest in mullet boy?_

 **Lance  
** _it’s nothing, I just need to take care of some business_

 **Hunk  
** _Oh god, dude. Lance, just cause he gets better marks than you, doesn’t mean you have to kill the guy_

 **Lance  
** _gah, that’s not what I meant. Just tell me. Have you seen him?_

 **Pidge**    
_I saw him walking in the hallway of the science TA’s offices a couple of minutes ago, but I don’t know if he’s there anymore_

 **Lance  
** _thanks Pidge_

 **Hunk  
** _Don’t do anything stupid!_

 **Lance  
** _no guarantees, my man_

Slipping his phone back into his front pocket, Lance made a beeline for the planetary science building. Nothing was going to stop him from speed walking to the second floor offices. Approaching the hallway, Lance kept his eyes peeled for any sight of Keith. But, what were the chances that he would still be here? The empty hallway only proved as a disappointment to Lance. It wouldn’t hurt to check each office though, right? As he made his way down the hallway of the offices of the space science department, he poked his head into every room in hopes of finding the menace who was jeopardizing his chances of being top of the class. Nearing the end of the hallway with no luck, Lance turned his heels and began to lithely stride back up the hall. The sudden outburst of laughter coming from the last office at the end of the hallway made Lance stop dead in his tracks. It was coming from Takashi Shirogane’s office. Lance slowly tiptoed his way towards the TA’s office, holding his breath in fear of being discovered. As he carefully peeked into the room through the slight crack in the door, his jaw almost hit the floor. There sat Keith and Shiro, laughing in each other’s company. They were lounging on the couch that Shiro had somehow managed to cram into his already tiny office. At this point, Lance was seething and the temptation to call Keith out surged stronger than ever. Before he could expose his presence and expose himself in front of Shiro, Lance ran back to the atrium as quickly as his sneaker-clad feet could take him.

Bending down with his hands on his knees, Lance tried to regain his breath. He came all the way to confront Keith, but why couldn’t he do it? He couldn’t just back out now. He had to know what was going on. Lance decided he would wait for Keith to leave Shiro’s office and catch him on his way out. Locating a small table near the entrance of the building, he slid into the accompanying chair and pulled out several textbooks in an attempt to blend in with the other students studying near him. With every passing minute, Lance constantly made quick glances to the doors, in hopes of catching Keith exiting the building.

An hour had passed and there was still no sign of Keith. The sun had climbed its way up into the sky and was now peeking over the top of the observatory connected to the Science building. The clouds seemed thicker than when he had gone in to see Shiro, but they seemed to steer clear of the sky. Lance stood and stretched while letting out a barely audible yawn. Perhaps he’d just meet Keith in class or something, he reasoned to himself. He moved over to the glass doors outside but stopped harshly when he caught sight of something familiar within. “Keith,” he breathed, before pulling the door open and heading inside again.

He strode over, annoyance and frustration at the wait burning his way through his body. It only got worse when he arrived at the spot where Keith was sitting on his bench, laptop open on his lap with his earbuds in. Keith didn’t seem to notice him at first, but soon he was taking out an earbud and looking up at him, face in a carefully calculated scowl.

“Do you have something to say to me?”

The moment Keith opened his mouth, Lance’s annoyance instantly doubled.

“Actually, yeah, I do.” Surprisingly, Lance didn’t stutter.

When Lance didn’t continue, Keith’s frown became more pronounced. “...So? What is it?”

Lance was a little surprised he’d gotten this far, but the angry suspicion he was running on hadn’t shorted out. “I know that we’re rivals and all, but I don’t think getting the answers to the midterm is a fair way to one-up me,” he said, trying to sound casual.

“ _Excuse me_?”

Lance stood his ground, pushing his normal aversion of confrontation to the deep recesses of his mind. “I’m just saying that it isn’t fair to the other kids in class who are working their asses off trying to study. You could have at least shared.”

“What are you talking about?” Keith seemed to be getting more curiously annoyed than defensive, but Lance pressed on with more impatience than grace.

“Y’know. You. Shiro. Passing you the answers to the midterm. We all know he’s been helping you out.”

Keith stood up, tone sharp as he said, “If you think Shiro would allow any student to cheat, then you’re even dumber than I thought.”

“If you weren’t cheating then what the hell have you been doing with Shiro? All your meetings with the guy are shady as hell, especially when he gave you all that research the other day.” Lance’s volume climbed.

“That research had nothing to do with the midterm,” said Keith with an angry flush. “Also, it was none of your business. Have you been spying on me?”

“No, I just see you around,” said Lance just as angrily. “What have you been doing then? Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Not cheating, that’s for sure.” Keith’s fists clenched tightly. “I can’t believe you’d even think that I’d cheat on a test. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” Lance huffed.

“You know what? Just stop.” Keith began packing up his things and Lance watched him do so, heart thundering in his chest. He’d been expecting an omission or vicious denial that seemed too telling, not indignation and anger. He expected a confirmation, not more questions. “I don’t need to sit here and listen to you blame me for something I never did.”

“Then what were you _actually_ doing?”

“It’s none of your damn business.” Keith grit his teeth, threw his bag over his shoulders, and stalked off. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

Lance watched Keith storm towards the doors and push them open with more force than what was probably necessary.

“Well, that went about as poorly as it could have,” Lance whispered to himself as he let out an exasperated sigh. When he returned to his friends, they seemed to agree with him and gave him matching expressions that gleamed with disappointment.

“Lance,” sighed Hunk, but Lance just waved him off. His confrontation probably hadn’t been the wisest thing -he knew that- but his pride, his own damned pride, clung to the idea that he wasn’t in the wrong and that Keith was the one at fault. _Keith_ was the one that was cheating on the test. Keith and Keith alone.

The niggling thought that perhaps Lance had been wrong lingered no matter how hard he tried to banish it. It was as if the more he denied Keith’s possible innocence, the more the doubt seeped into his mind. What if Lance had been wrong? What if Keith hadn’t been cheating at all? No matter how ridiculous an idea, Hunk and Pidge were right in that it had to be considered. A good scientist considered all possibilities. But this particular possibility meant that Lance had been wrong and biased and accusatory towards some random kid who sat a couple rows behind him in astronomy class. How much of an asshole would that make him for calling out Keith, who may or may not have cheated at all?

Lance shook the thoughts out of his head and tried to snuggle under his covers. The test was in four days. That would be the moment of truth, he decided. If Keith did ridiculously well, then Lance would know he was cheating and he’d celebrate the confirmation of his suspicions. If he beat Keith, then he knew that he’d been wrong and that he probably ought to apologize, although he was trying not to entertain that possibility too much.

He slept with those thoughts in his head, his resolve carrying him all the way into the exam where he sat, determined and fixed away from Keith.

And when he got his test result back a few days later courtesy of a very prompt Shiro, his mark, sitting neatly underneath Keith’s was all the confirmation he needed. He returned to his friends with the intention of celebrating, but somehow the knowledge that his suspicions were confirmed made him feel heavier than before.


	2. All You Can Do Is Get Up And Try To Make It Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dude, I cannot believe you punched Keith in the face!”

Lance’s habit of rumination often stopped when he was proven right. He usually revelled in the knowledge that his guess proved true and then let the whole thing go. But this was different. Sure, Keith always did better than him on tests, but not _that_ much better. The regular two percent discrepancy was now replaced by a whopping five percent difference. His mind reeled with possible next steps. Would he confront Keith again? The previous encounter didn’t go exactly as planned, and Lance wanted nothing more than to avoid Keith’s hostile and defensive temperament. Could he confront Shiro? The thought of accosting the authority figure who was possibly responsible for this complication in the first place already made him apprehensive about the situation. Nevertheless, it was clear what Lance had to do. He had no other choice than to speak to Shiro about his suspicions if he wanted a clear cut answer to the turmoil that was making itself ever present in his mind.

Once again, Lance made his way towards the building in which Shiro’s office was located, this time with a much different situation playing out in his imagination. Was it too risky to accuse a TA of helping another student cheat? It didn’t matter. Lance had already decided and he wasn’t about to back down now.

The lengthy hallway leading up to Shiro’s office seemed to never end. With every step he took, Lance took a shallow breath. After what felt like hours of deliberation, Lance lightly rapped his knuckle on the closed door. The door slowly swung open and there stood Takashi Shirogane with his award winning smile. “Hey Lance, what’s up?” Shiro beamed invitingly. Lance took a deep breath. _God, this was going to be a difficult conversation._

“I need to talk to you about something,” Lance replied slowly while shutting the door behind him making special note not to slam it. Shiro responded with an inquisitive look that urged Lance to continue. “Okay, this may seem stupid, but something’s been bothering me for like a week now and I didn’t know who else to talk to about it”.

“Lance, I can assure you, if something is vexing you, it’s not stupid,” Shiro responded empathetically.

“It’s about you. Kind of,” Lance continued with a slight wince in his voice, lowering himself onto the couch adjacent Shiro’s desk.

The smile that Shiro was wearing slowly faded, and his brows began to knit together. “I’m bothering you?”

“No! It’s not like that” Lance quickly interjected. “It’s mostly about Keith Kogane, but kinda about you too? I don’t know.”

Shiro’s face looked more confused than ever. “Keith Kogane? I wasn’t aware you two were friends”.

“We’re not. Definitely not friends. Enemies, really,” Lance immediately corrected. Shiro, slightly taken back at Lance’s quick insistence, redirected his focus and encouraged Lance to proceed. “Here’s the issue,” Lance slowly began. “It’s weird to say this, but have you been helping Keith prepare for the tests and midterm?”

Shiro’s expression remained relatively calm. Was Lance in the clear?

“Well, I help a lot of students prepare. That’s part of my job. If a student has questions regarding the material, I’m always happy to help them understand it more thoroughly”.

Lance caught himself before he almost rolled his eyes subconsciously. “No, that’s not exactly what I mean by help, Shiro. I’m referring to the more ‘academically dishonest’ way of help”.

Shiro let out a semi-exasperated sigh. “Lance, I would really appreciate it if you could just fast forward to your point”.

It was now or never. “DidYouHelpKeithCheatForTheMidterm?” Lance spat out at the speed of light.

“Lance, you’re gonna have to slow down. That’s not quite what I meant when I said ‘fast forward’. All I heard come out of your mouth was a slur of unintelligible sounds.”

The words seemed to lodge in Lance’s throat on the way up, but there was no way out at this point. He had to tell Shiro. He had to ask him for the truth. “Did you help Keith cheat for the midterm?” Lance repeated at a much more comprehensible pace.

Shiro’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell slightly agape. “Why would you ever think that I would compromise the learning of a student by providing them with the answers to the midterm?”

“It’s just that I saw Keith got a way higher mark than me this time, and you guys are always talking, and you gave him these papers saying they would help, and when I asked Keith about it, he wouldn’t give me a direct answer and was being all sketchy, and-”

Shiro reached out and placed a hand softly on Lance’s shoulder. “Lance. Calm down. You’re rambling.”

At this point, Lance was struggling to breathe as his words seemed to flow a mile a minute. “I’m sorry, it’s just,” he took a strangled breath and switched gears, “I don’t know what to think and I-”

Shiro leaned further back into his chair. For someone who had just been accused of aiding a student in cheating, Shiro was completely calm. “Lance, you know my stance on academic dishonesty. I would never partake in such an unacceptable act. Besides, you need to think rationally about this. Have you actually witnessed Keith cheat with your own two eyes?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then let me stop you right there, Lance.” Shiro fixed him with a firm look, one that grounded him. Shiro waited for Lance to relax a little more in his seat before saying, “Don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions just a little bit?”

Lance bit his lip and slowly began to process what Shiro was saying. Okay, maybe he did jump the gun, but it seemed like it was one hundred percent certain at the time.

“I really think you should apologize to Keith for acting so brashly. There really was no need to have a yelling match,” Shiro continued calmly.

Lance cocked his head slightly to the left. “Wait, how’d you know about that?”

Shiro’s smile was apologetic. “I may have heard you downstairs,” he responded, trying to stifle a giggle.

Lance gathered his belongings quickly and proceeded to get up from the sofa. “Well, thanks for your help, Shiro. I gotta get going.”

Shiro wished him luck and sent a wave in Lance’s direction. With one swift motion, Lance gripped the door handle and pushed his way through.

“Don’t forget that apology, Lance! You owe Keith that much!” Shiro called after him.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll get on it.” Lance waved dismissively with his back already turned. He walked through the hall and headed down to the first floor. His thoughts were a whirlwind as he headed back into his apartment, and it wasn’t until he’d gotten inside that he realized he had a great deal to say about what had just transpired.

Upon finding Hunk and Pidge working away at the kitchen table, he plopped his bag onto the floor near the doorway and slumped into the dining chair next to Hunk.

“Dude. What happened?” Hunk said wide-eyed.

Lance let out an audible sigh before launching into his story. It took about 10 minutes to recap the whole exchange with Shiro in full. Pidge nodded occasionally to show that she was listening while Hunk asked one or two clarifying questions. By the time Lance had finished, both Hunk and Pidge wore the oh so familiar expression that Lance had gotten tired of seeing. He knew exactly what they were going to say

“Oh come on, guys. Can’t you side with me for once here?” Lance whined.

“But Lance, Shiro’s right. You assumed Keith was cheating when he really wasn’t, plus you called him out on it in person. Don’t you think that warrants some kind of apology?” Pidge stated a matter of factly.

Hunk concurred with Pidge, nodding along with her before saying, “Yeah, man. Just say you’re sorry. It was kind of a dick move.”

“Augh! You both sound like Shiro.” Lance grumbled as he began to walk towards his room. Sure, it sucked to be wrong but maybe everyone was right. He had accused Keith of something he didn’t do. He did owe Keith an apology, and he was going to get to that apology...tomorrow.

Lance spent all of the next morning scripting out what he was going to say to Keith. Their first meeting had inevitably gone the opposite of smoothly, and Lance wasn’t about to put himself in the direct line of Keith’s dagger eyes a second time.

Locking the apartment door behind him, Lance trudged along the hallway towards the elevator. Today, Keith was going to get the most perfectly well-crafted apology Lance had ever created.

Lance had made a point to avoid Keith the entirety of the day until he was ready to give the apology. Dodging into classrooms, sprinting down the hallway, and taking the long way to his classes was all part of the process. Lance had done such a good job at evading Keith until that fateful moment in which he was convinced the universe was out to get him.

“Ow! What the fuck?” Keith exclaimed loudly.

Lance had just opened the main door of the astronomy building full force into Keith’s face. The Keith Kogane. The Keith that he had spent so much time and energy avoiding.

“Holy crap. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Geez, that look like it hurt.” Lance’s eyes were just about to pop out of their sockets when he realized exactly who he had physically assaulted with the weighted glass door.

Taking extra precaution, Lance extended his hand towards Keith in order to help him off the floor.

Keith looked up to try to process what had just happened. “It’s  _you_ ,”  he fumed as he got up on his own (purposefully rejecting Lance’s help) and rubbed his nose to check for blood.

Oh boy, had Lance done it now. All memory of the scripted apology dissipated from Lance’s brain. “Um, yeah. It’s me.” Lance hesitated while retracting his empty hand and shoving it back into his back pocket. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happened. I, uh, didn’t like the way things ended last time we talked.”

“Yeah, and?” Keith cut back sharply as he dabbed a tissue at the blood that was trickling near his upper lip.

Lance took Keith’s retort as grounds for continuing. “It’s just that I feel like I owe you an apology. Not just for what literally happened thirty seconds ago, but also for what happened yesterday. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Keith snorted. “Actually, yeah, there is. _Leave me alone._ ”

Lance wrinkled his nose at the suggestion. “Okay, anything except that.”

“Then I guess there’s really nothing you can do for me is there?”

Keith quickly picked up the books that had been knocked out of his arms due to the impact of the door and headed straight for the exit.

“Wait! Keith, wait!” Lance called after him.

Keith slowed his pace and turned his head half-heartedly.

“There must be  _something_ I can do to fix this,” Lance continued in a softer tone.

“That’s the thing, Lance, there isn’t.”

And with that, Lance watched as Keith walked away and disappeared into the crowd of students just exiting their classes.

The knot in Lance’s stomach continued to tighten as he set down his textbook and laptop on the lecture hall desk. Casually looking around the classroom while waiting for Hunk and Pidge to arrive, his eyes unconsciously settled on Keith. Lance’s breath hitched in his throat while the memory of their previous encounter replayed in his mind. The uncomfortable feeling in his gut only grew. There had to be a way to make this right. Just at that moment, Hunk and Pidge slid into the two seats next to Lance that he had saved for them.

“Yo, whaddup, my man,” Hunk greeted warmly.

Lance flashed a strained smile accompanied with a muted, “Hey guys.”

“How’d the thing go with Keith?” Pidge inquired as she began to set up her laptop and corresponding class notes.

“Honestly, don’t even remind me.”

Hunk’s expression instantly turned sympathetic. “Did something happen?”

Lance’s smile faded as he adopted a much more solemn demeanour. “Yeah, kinda.”

Pidge swivelled her chair so she was facing Lance directly. “Well? What happened with Kogane?”

Just at that moment, Professor Coran walked into the lecture hall and announced his presence with a cheerful, “Good afternoon, class.”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Lance quietly whispered as he turned his head towards the front. If he was going to beat Keith, he was going to need to hang on to every last word the professor said.

* * *

“Dude, I cannot believe you punched Keith in the face!” Hunk said excitedly as the metal tray he set down clattered onto the cafeteria table.  

“I didn’t _punch_ him in the face, Hunk.” Lance groaned into his hands.

“Theoretically, you did punch him in the face, just with the door, not your fist,” Pidge snickered.

“That’s besides the point. What you guys have to understand is that I never got to deliver my perfect apology!” Lance continued to whine.

Hunk began to poke around at the brown slop that seemed to slosh around involuntarily on his plate. “Don’t you think it’s better if you just leave him alone? It’s pretty obvious he doesn’t want you around,” he garbled with his mouth full.

“Hunk, you know more than anyone that I hate feeling like I owe anybody anything. I have to do something for Keith in order to restore balance to the universe.”

Pidge scoffed. “Right, because your actions are important enough to offset the entire harmony of the universe.”

Lance shot Pidge a playful glare. “First of all, yes, my existence is obviously vital to the universe, and second,” he turned his head towards Hunk, “I can’t just leave Keith alone. There must be something that I could do for him. There has to be.”

“Well, you could always pester him until he gives in,” Hunk joked in between mouthfuls of the surprisingly appetizing goo. Pidge gave him a disgusted look as she poked at her own goo, ever hesitant to eat it.

“Hunk! You’re a genius!” Lance exclaimed as he shot out of his chair and quickly gathered his belongings which were now consequently spilling out of his arms.

Hunk sputtered and almost choked on his food in response to Lance’s sudden reaction. “Lance! Wait, where are you- and, he’s gone.”

Pidge let out a small giggle and shook her head in fond exasperation. “Just let him go, Hunk. He seems pretty determined.”

A worried frown was still fixed onto Hunk's face. “I just don’t want him to make a fool of himself.” He watched as Lance disappeared through the cafeteria doors. “Doesn’t that worry you?”

“Lance? Make a fool of himself?” Pidge leaned back into her seat with a smile. “Lance will be fine. He’ll just do what he does best.” Pidge’s smile turned sinister. “Talk.”


	3. I'll Find The Truth. I'll Never Stop.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s a part of my life, Shiro, and I don’t think it’s right that I continue ignoring it any longer. Besides, it keeps getting brought up anyways. Maybe I’m supposed to be looking into it.” Keith let out a small laugh. “Maybe it’s destiny .”

The soft knocking on the door was just loud enough to tear Shiro’s concentration from the papers he was currently grading. Shiro paused, put down his pen, and gave a gentle, but rehearsed, “come in.”

Keith entered the room without any of his usual enthusiasm. Shiro’s office was a familiar place to Keith, but he looked just like any other undergraduate student in his nervousness. “Hey,” Keith meekly replied as he set down his belongings on the worn-in leather couch.

Shiro quickly shuffled the remaining ungraded papers into the manila folder at the corner of his desk and devoted his full attention to Keith. Something was different about Keith, and Shiro was determined to find out what. “And what brings you here today?”

“It’s about last week,” Keith started as he brought up his hand to rest on the back of his neck.  

Last week? A thought bubbled to Shiro’s mind. Could this be about Lance? Keith hadn’t exactly mentioned Lance’s accusations to Shiro at home, but Shiro and Keith had always had the understanding that Keith would discuss things when he felt comfortable enough to do so. Perhaps now was the time. Shiro settled into his seat, glad to see that Keith didn’t seem angry about his altercation with Lance, merely nervous. “Are you talking about the midterm?”

Keith proceeded to fish out a thin, blue duotang from his bag and set it on the desk in front of Shiro. “Not exactly.”

Confused, Shiro began flipping open the folder and examining the first few pages. He paused to shoot Keith a pensive look. “Wait, aren’t these the papers I gave you last week?”

“Uh, yeah, they are. I just had some questions about the research.” Keith fidgeted in his seat. “It seems like the most recent studies were conducted approximately thirty years ago. Is there no contemporary research? Does anything more recent exist?”

Ah, so _t_ _hat’s_ what this talk was going to be about. Shiro got up from his seat and walked to the other side of the desk.

“Keith, as you know, the idea of soulmates is a pretty dated concept. Most people, nowadays, don’t really believe in it because they value the importance of choice rather than destiny.”

“So, it doesn’t really exist then.”

“I didn’t say they didn’t exist,” said Shiro. He leaned against the desk, arms crossed against his chest. “This isn’t something that necessarily exists or doesn’t exist. It’s a concept that people have believed in for years. It’s just fallen out of favour over the last thirty years. It doesn’t invalidate the work that’s been done, but it also means that there isn’t any new research that you can look at as a reference.” At Keith’s quiet expression, Shiro continued with, “I’m sure there are studies currently being done on it, but it’s difficult to find young people willing to answer questions on this sort of thing since most people your age don’t believe in it.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Keith thinking back on Lance’s soulmate questions in class. The memory of Lance burned at Keith, and his fingers instinctively reached up to rub where Lance had hit him with the door. As Keith’s fingertips lingered on the bruise, he realized how tender it still was when the dull, but painful sensation encapsulated his nerve endings. He sucked in a quick breath through his teeth in response to the pain. There was no doubt that this was going to hurt for the next couple of days. At least the swelling had gone down substantially, which helped subside the initial chipmunk effect. Frankly speaking, the whole encounter with Lance had probably been an accident, but with the tone of their recent exchanges playing in Keith’s mind, he wouldn’t doubt that it was intentional.

“I’ve actually been meaning to ask,” said Shiro slowly, “about that bruise?” He gestured his index finger towards the bluey-green splotch of discoloration that had settled on Keith’s cheek. “It has nothing to do with the topic, I know, but you don’t look well. Is everything okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Keith instinctively brought up his palm to conceal the mark on his face.

“Keith,” sighed Shiro, “Did you get into a fight? I’m not going to lecture you on it,” he said as Keith scoffed under his breath, “but it looks bad enough that you might want to ice it.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“It doesn’t look fine.” Shiro fixed him with a firm look that Keith imagined might have belonged on a worried older brother. Or perhaps Shiro looked like a distressed father who had just found out that his child fought another child on the playground. Considering the turbulence of Keith’s relationship with Lance, the playground analogy certainly seemed apt.

“Look, Shiro, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Keith responded rather sharply.

It didn’t take much for Shiro to be able to detect the frustration in Keith’s tone. “Keith, listen to me. If you’re having issues, you know you can talk to me. You always have.”

The sigh that escaped Keith’s mouth was brimming with exasperation. That much Shiro could tell. Kicking the once carefully placed bag that was resting on the cushion off the couch, Keith sank deep into the seat, legs fully extended, and let the warm and familiar smell of old leather envelope him. Moving this couch into Shiro’s office was the best decision they had ever made. A small smile tugged at Keith’s lips as he recounted the fond memory of the disastrous, but hilarious, ordeal of lugging that god-awfully heavy couch up two separate flights of stairs and playing a game of counterfeit Tetris trying to fit the damn thing through the tiny door frame.

“Keith? Is everything okay?” Shiro’s voice permeated the silence as he set down a mug of iced water on the small coffee table in front of Keith. So much for the pleasant daydreaming.

“What? Oh yeah, it’s just Lance. It’s nothing.”

 _Wait. What. Hold on. That did not just happen._ The thought came tumbling out of Keith’s mouth before his brain could even stop it.

The look on Shiro’s face was nothing but quizzical. “Lance? As in, Lance McClain?”

So Lance had been a contributing factor to Keith’s worries after all. Shiro liked to think that he knew Lance pretty well. He was a good student and always willing to learn. The possibility of Lance being the cause behind Keith’s bruised complexion didn’t seem to fit together in the slightest. However, the fact that Lance had, indeed, come to him about a problem regarding Keith within the last week was something to consider. From what Shiro could remember, Lance had promised that an apology was in order, so the idea that he would resort to violence thereafter didn’t seem to add up.

Shiro pressed for details gently, wanting to know Keith’s perspective on the affair. “What exactly happened? I didn’t take you for the type to let someone deck you like that.”

Keith, now sitting upright on the sofa, groaned into both his hands. “Oh, drop the shit, Shiro. He smacked me with a door, not roundhouse kicked me into oblivion.”

The laugh that Shiro had unsuccessfully disguised as a cough only frustrated Keith further.

“I’m sorry, did you say that he smacked you in the face with a door?” Shiro managed to choke out in between muffled chuckles.

“Stop.”

Shiro cleared his throat around another laugh and relaxed a little. Just a misunderstanding then. “So, he smacked you with a door. Should I be worried?”

“No. It was an accident, apparently,” grumbled Keith as he tried to his hide his embarrassment between his hands.

“Well, that’s… reassuring.” Keith left the safety of his hands and glared up at Shiro. “What? He’s a hardworking student and he actually shows up to Professor Coran’s lectures,” continued Shiro. He recalled the look of guilt on Lance’s face when Shiro told him that Keith hadn’t done anything academically dishonest. The boy had a good heart. “Lance is a pretty good guy.”

“Pretty good at getting on my nerves,” Keith hissed through his teeth.

“Keith,” Shiro warned, but Keith pressed on.

“He hit me in the face and accused me of cheating. What am I supposed to think?”

Shiro frowned and took a seat next to Keith on the couch. Ah, so Lance hadn’t apologized yet. “Have you spoken to one another?”

“Does it _look_ like I want to speak with him?”

“Okay, maybe that was a poor question.”

“I have him in most of my classes, Shiro,” said Keith. “What should I even be doing?”

“If you’re still frustrated with him,” said Shiro thoughtfully, “ it’s probably best to keep your distance until you cool off. Being around each other when you’re feeling like this isn’t going to help you figure out what Lance is thinking, or if you even want to know.” Shiro placed a firm hand on Keith’s shoulder. The distance wouldn’t allow Lance to apologize, but it sounded like Lance was experiencing his own conflicted feelings about the ordeal. Perhaps space would do them both good. “It’s ultimately your decision, but I know that you’ll make the right choice.”

Instead of looking comforted, Keith’s face scrunched up. “You’re making it sound like I won’t be able to be around him without returning the favour and punching him out.”

“Can you guarantee that wouldn’t happen the next time he does or says something that bothers you?” Keith grumbled a little at that. “You’re human, Keith, and sometimes humans need some time apart so that they can collect themselves and come back to situations with a more level-headed mind. Do you see what I’m trying to get at?”

“Avoid Lance so that I don’t accidentally assault him. Got it.” Keith saluted Shiro from his position on the couch. Shiro sighed, and Keith tried to sound understanding. “I’m taking this seriously, Shiro. Lance is just a classmate, and I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,” said Keith, despite not really meaning much of it. He decided to try and steer the conversation back to its original topic. “I just… this soulmate stuff is getting me more anxious the more I delve into it. And Lance has a habit of bringing it up. Occasionally.”

The couch squeaked a little as Shiro readjusted his position to face Keith more directly. “Keith, I’ve known you for a long time and the struggles you’ve had growing up, but you’ve never expressed this much interest in this subject matter before. Is there a reason why all this is surfacing now?”

“It’s a part of my life, Shiro, and I don’t think it’s right that I continue ignoring it any longer. Besides, it keeps getting brought up anyways. Maybe I’m supposed to be looking into it.” Keith let out a small laugh. “Maybe it’s _destiny_.”

“You know I’m always going to be there for you Keith, and if you need me to be your supporter for this, you can count on me.”

This time, Keith’s smile was a little more kind, more genuine. “Thanks, Shiro.”

“No problem, Keith. I’m sure with your determination, you’ll find what you’re looking for. And remember, try to avoid Lance as best you can. He doesn’t seem to be exactly helping in this case.”

“Oh, believe me, I will,” said Keith. He stood, stretched a bit before putting on his bag, and gave Shiro a weak smile. “Well, I’ll get going then.”

“You can do this, Keith.” Shiro walked him to the door and gave him what he hoped was an encouraging pat on the back. “It’s going to be fine.”

Keith nodded and did his best to believe in Shiro for the time being. All he had to do was avoid Lance. Theoretically, it wouldn’t be too difficult. He and Lance shared a couple of classes, certainly, but Lance had never tried to approach him until recently. In fact, Keith had been almost certain that Lance had no idea who he was at all before the boy had come up to Keith spewing accusations. He hadn’t expected it, and did not expect to find avoiding his fellow classmate difficult in any way. Keith was fast enough to run from Lance if the other boy tried to approach him, and Keith felt confident in his own wary ability to feel if Lance was attempting to come over.

Unfortunately, Keith always had difficulty expecting Lance’s actions. They only had a few more classes before the break, and even after those classes were finished, Keith was planning to stay on campus.

He didn’t anticipate Lance trying to seek him out on his own. Then again, when had Lance ever really adhered to Keith’s expectations?

“Keith,” Lance called out at the end of one of their classes. His voice stuck out amongst their other chatty classmates, which was probably a good thing for Keith. As long as Keith knew where Lance was, he could be sure to be where Lance was not.

Keith tightened the straps of his backpack and wove through the mess of students heading out the door. He opted for the doors at the top of the lecture hall to get a head start and managed to slip around the corner and into a new hallway. Keith heard Lance call his name again but Keith kept moving. The further away from Lance the better. He could still hear Lance apologizing loudly to some of their classmates from down the hall. He had no doubt that the fool had accidentally knocked into their classmates in his quest to get to Keith.

Once he was safely nestled back at his apartment in his room, Keith let out the breath he had been holding. He tossed his backpack to the side and fell face first onto his unmade bed. He’d successfully evaded Lance for the day. As long as Keith left his room for the express purpose of attending class and nothing else, he would be safe. He had a few more days before Lance inevitably went home for the holidays, and then Keith would be able to leave his room without seeing his classmate’s tan, punchable face.

Keith spent the next three days arriving at his classes exactly when they started and leaving almost immediately after his professors dismissed him. In the classes he had with Lance, Keith sat closer to the exits so that he’d be able to leave the room before Lance even tried to call his name. Every day that Keith avoided speaking to Lance, he hoped that it would help his frustration towards the boy dim and die. Instead, Lance’s failed attempts to speak to Keith only fueled the pre-existing feelings of annoyance that Keith held.

The frequency of Lance’s attempts only perpetuated Keith’s cycle of frustration. The more Lance tried to pursue Keith, the more Keith evaded him and grew more agitated. This was why, in Keith’s opinion, when Lance finally managed to stop him on campus after dropping off an assignment, Keith was livid.

Lance hadn’t even said anything. Keith knew that once he had left the drop-box area and spotted Lance (or rather, once it was clear that Lance had spotted Keith), this cat and mouse game had to end. “Lance.”

Lance looked up from his phone and had the audacity to look surprised. “Keith! You’re just the guy I’ve been wanting to speak to.”

“I know,” said Keith with a fixed scowl. “What do you want?”

“Look, I know you’re probably still mad about the whole cheating thing, which I totally understand, and, you know, me hitting you with the door which definitely hurt, but-”

“Get to the point, Lance,” Keith growled.

“I just wanted to talk for a bit.” The soft planes of Lance’s face shifted itself into a nervous smile.

“Don’t you think we’ve talked enough?” Keith shoved his fists into his jacket pockets.

The question made Lance flinch and guilt overtook his features. “It was an accident. I’m sorry!”

“You’ve apologized. You’re sorry. I get it. Move on.” Keith tried to shift away only for Lance to block his exit. “What?”

“Listen, you’re sick of me apologizing and I’m sick of doing it. So, let’s make a truce. Hang out with me for one day. We can do whatever you want. I’m not picky. Just please let me do this for you.”

An outing. Lance thought that his false accusations and accidental assault could be forgiven over an outing. Keith sighed, his anger popping like a bubble and leaving nothing but plain exhaustion in its wake. “Is this what it’s going to take for you to actually leave me alone?”

Even Lance seemed surprised that Keith was humouring the idea. “Yes, I swear.” Lance placed a hand over his chest and tried for a hesitant smile. “Scout’s honour.”

“There is no way that you were a scout,” said Keith skeptically, “but fine.”

“Really? You’ll do it? For real?” Lance seemed to glow with excitement. His earlier desperation had morphed into something more eager.

“I guess I am.” Keith adjusted the strap of his own bag, trying to give Lance the cue to leave. “Just tell me when and where.”

“How about go-karting? You like,” Lance paused awkwardly, “cars right?”

“I like motorcycles, actually.”

“Same difference,” said Lance dismissively, shaking off his error and plowing forward. “So, tomorrow? Wanna meet at Montgomery’s Raceway at 3:00?”

“Sure. See you there,” Keith replied curtly. He pushed past Lance and didn’t look back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I actually have somewhere to be.”

“I’ll see you later then,” called Lance.

Keith exited the building, and it was only then that he realized what he’d just agreed to. He had consented to spend more time with the person he had actively been avoiding for days. How did it come to this? It didn’t matter. He was meeting with Lance in less than 24 hours, and he had no idea how to prepare.


	4. I Actually Don’t Hate You Right Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Keith Kogane, did you just agree with me?”

The hustle and bustle of the local diner was no match for the excitedness in Lance’s voice.

“Dude, I totally kicked your ass in that final race!”

Keith shrugged and offered a sly smile. “You beat me in one race. I creamed you the first six times, or did you conveniently forget that already?”

Lance scoffed from across the table. “Whatever, man. It’s not my fault you don’t play by the ‘all or nothing’ rules”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever makes you feel better.”

“Just admit defeat already, would you? I beat you. Plain and simple.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Can we just order? We were racing for, like, three hours, and I’m _starving._ ”

Lance flipped open the plastic menu and scanned the daily specials. “Well, well, well, changing the subject now, are we?”

“You really know how to push my buttons, you know that?” Keith huffed.

That much was true. Before today, Keith had always found Lance a bit of a nuisance in class. Lance’s off topic questions had the tendency to put Keith on edge. The evening had started out rough. Keith had arrived at Montgomery’s Raceway early and had hidden himself, half-afraid and half-hoping that Lance would actually show up. When Lance finally walked up to the front of the building, Keith had hesitated, watching Lance sweat as the boy worried about Keith’s attendance. Leaving his hiding spot, Keith put Lance out of his misery and had been eager to end their excursion and be done with it. He anticipated that Lance would get on his nerves before they even started their evening, and at first, he hadn’t been let down. Even during their races, Lance had seemed like an expert at riling Keith up. However, Lance didn’t quite stack up to what Keith had thought. The loud and obnoxious classmate Keith had grown accustomed to was actually kind of fun to be around. Emphasis on the ‘kind of’.

Lance’s voice was the first to cut through the silence. “You know, in all honesty, I had a lot of fun today. I know we usually don’t hang out, and I didn’t exactly leave the greatest impression, but I’m glad we decided to do this.”

Keith looked up from his menu. “You know what? Me too.”

Lance assumed a shocked expression. “Keith Kogane, did you just agree with me?”

“Me? Agree with you? Keep dreaming,” Keith exaggerated.

“But, you just, oh come on!” whined Lance.

“Come on, you crybaby. Let’s order.”

Lance jutted out his bottom lip in a visible pout. Keith chuckled quietly before raising a hand to flag down one of the servers idling by the cash registers. Both Lance and Keith gave their orders, which happened to be identical, and didn’t speak again until their server was well out of hearing range.

With a quick glance around, Lance reached into the nearby worker’s station located behind their booth and swiped two kids menus off the second shelf.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Keith inquired as he took a sip of his water.

Before Keith could even get a response from Lance, a red crayon was tossed in his direction.

“Race ya!” Lance yelled enthusiastically.

It took a couple seconds for Keith to realize that Lance had started on the maze located on the reverse side of the menu. Lance had already dragged his waxy blue crayon a couple of inches into the maze before Keith picked up his own crayon. It was _so_ on.

Even though he was sure of himself and his guaranteed victory, Lance snuck a quick peek at Keith’s paper just to make sure that he was still behind only to find out that Keith had already finished the maze and was waiting patiently for Lance to finish his own.

“Wha..? How did you? You cheater!” Lance pointed accusingly.

“Again with the cheating thing?” Keith groaned good-naturedly.

“What? Too soon?” Lance smirked as he crumpled up the paper menu containing his unfinished maze on the back.

Before Keith could cut back with a smart remark, the server returned with their order and muttered a monotone ‘enjoy your meal’ before retreating back to the counter.

“God, I don’t know why we suffer through the Garrison meals when we have this amazing spot literally five minutes away,” Lance stated in between mouthfuls.

Keith hummed in agreement as he shovelled seven french fries into his mouth. As much as it pained him to admit it, Lance was right. Tucked away in the inner corner of a small plaza, the diner was a favourite spot of his. The low buzz of the neon lights offered a sense of familiarity and comfort while the decor, though synonymous with the tackiness of the 80’s, provided just enough visual stimulation to always keep your interest. Even if it did tend to get busy on Friday evenings, Keith still savoured every moment. Sure, he wasn’t necessarily one for social interaction, especially when it came to being in a crowded area, but the food was definitely worth it.

Eating with Lance was a mildly quiet affair. Lance made the odd comment about their meal or the location, but they mostly enjoyed the deliciousness of diner food in companionable silence. Keith wasn’t sure if it was because they were both ravenous, or because Lance was trying to be considerate and allow Keith to eat in peace, but he appreciated it. The quiet let him think, and the small talk they shared as they ate allowed Keith to feel like he wasn’t being the worst person to have dinner with. He may have never liked Lance, but he didn’t want to be overtly rude. Although, Keith thought wryly, he’d had every reason to be rude considering their history of negative interactions.

“Hey, Keith?”

Keith glanced up at Lance, who had stopped eating and was watching him with a curious expression on his face. Keith swallowed and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“If you must.”

“It’s a very serious question.”

Keith rolled his eyes and leaned back into the vinyl seat. “I highly doubt that.”

Lance folded his hands and set them on the table. “No really, hear me out, okay? It’s actually super important.”

“Well, spit it out then.” Keith motioned for Lance to continue, reaching for his iced water.

“So, I’ve been thinking, when was the last time you had a decent haircut? Like, honestly, how can you live with that mullet sitting on your head?”

Keith just about choked on his drink. “Would you quit making fun of my hair? It’s getting old, and frankly, quite immature,” he managed to sputter out in between the resulting coughing fit of having icy cold liquid slide down his windpipe.

“Oh my gosh, you should have seen your face,” Lance snickered as he pointed a finger towards Keith’s direction. “That was pure gold.”

“ _Lance._ ” Keith hissed through pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

Okay, angry Keith equals scary Keith. Lance made sure to make a mental note of that.

“Relax, mullet man, it was a joke," promised Lance, trying to smother his amusement. "You’re so gullible, I just can’t help myself.”

Keith crossed his arms to create an imaginary barrier between himself and Lance. “Jesus, why did I agree to hang out with you? You’re insufferable.”

“Oh Keithy Boy, didn’t you just say it was fun spending time with me? And now, you’re calling me insufferable? I’m so hurt.” Lance feigned a pouty expression and clutched his chest for extra emphasis.

Keith rolled his eyes so hard he thought his eyeballs would detach from their sockets and subsequently fall out of his head.

The scoff that Keith received in response was soft. “Man, if eye-rolling was an Olympic sport, you’d win gold every time,” Lance commented while picking at his fries.

Keith said nothing in return, and the two of them sat in uncomfortable silence before Lance decided to speak up again. It was, after all, partially his fault for creating such an awkward environment in the first place.

“Keith, listen, there really is something I need to ask you. For real, this time.”

The sudden change in Lance’s tone piqued Keith’s interest. He expected him to crack some sort of joke or drop another one of his god-awful puns, but the atmosphere really didn’t seem to lend itself to that situation anymore.

Keith sighed. “Okay, fine. What is it? Remember, you’re treading on thin ice, McClain. This is your last chance.”

Lance took a breath, drawing Keith’s gaze, and Keith immediately regretted it. The bright blue of Lance’s eyes were filled with more seriousness than he was expecting. He drowned in the colour.

“I know you said that you were having fun earlier, and, you know, so was I. So, I was thinking that we could technically, you know, hang out. Again. Sometime. If you wanted.”

Keith’s brows furrowed. “Lance, are you asking me to hang out again?”

“Um, is that what it sounds like?” Lance went from serious to downright awkward in 10 seconds. “Because if so, then yes. Yep. That’s what I’m asking.”

Keith released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The proposed deal was supposed to involve one equal exchange. One promised hangout in hopes of Lance never bothering him again. So how come Keith couldn’t manage to turn down Lance’s request? If he was being completely honest with himself, the time they spent together wasn’t actually that bad. Strictly speaking, yes, Lance knew exactly how to get on Keith’s nerves, but it somehow was never portrayed with malicious intent.

“What happened to only hanging out for one day?” Keith traced the rim of his glass with his pinky finger.

“I know that’s what we agreed on, and I have no problem holding up my end of the bargain, but I just really...I don’t know...I really wanna do this again.” Lance mentally slapped himself in the face. His usual smooth and suave character was nowhere to be found within a two hundred kilometre radius. Why was he so awkward all of a sudden?

Keith looked down at his drink as he thought before shrugging. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Oh my god, is that a yes?” Lance beamed as the twinkle returned to his eyes.

Keith scowled up at Lance. “That isn’t a yes. I just asked what you would have planned _if_ we hypothetically hung out again.”

Lance plowed forward, completely ignoring what Keith had just said. “Keith, you saying yes is honestly amazing. I can’t even believe it.”

“I can just take it back.”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m calm.” Lance leaned back in his chair, smile just as wide as before. “Let’s see. Where would be a good place to go?”

“You’ll have to top a raceway. Good luck with that.”

“Keith, we could go anywhere and it would be the best time.”

“Anywhere?” Keith arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t challenge me, Keith.” Keith took a sip of his drink while Lance’s expression turned more thoughtful. “We could do a coffee shop?”

Keith blinked at him slowly. “A coffee shop?” The idea sounded so  _normal_ that Keith was almost inclined to think that Lance had some other crazy combination up his sleeve.

“Listen, I’m sure you drink coffee as black as your hair and probably have zero appreciation for the god-sent drinks that are lattes and macchiatos,” Keith rolled his eyes at Lance’s theatrics and allowed him to continue, “but the coffee shop just off campus is actually really great. They have these sweets that are to die for. Hunk found a way to copy some of the recipes, and he recreates them every so often. It’s amazing.”

“Shouldn’t I just try Hunk’s sweets instead of going to the shop?”

“Keith, Keith, Keith.” Lance shook his head. “You need to have the shop’s sweets first before you can experience Hunk’s sweets. Think of it as a sort of precursor or a rite of passage.”

Keith chuckled. “You really are making a big deal out of this, aren’t you?”

“If you’re gonna do something, you have to do it right.” Lance shrugged and resumed his easy smile. “So, what do you say? Coffee?”

And as much as Keith wanted to say no, he really couldn’t do it. “Sure, coffee sounds good."

Lance flashed his classic grin and shot Keith a quick wink. “Keith Kogane, get ready for the best time of your life.”

Keith tried to ignore the unfamiliar, yet warm sensation that started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach. It spread through his body at an alarmingly fast pace. “Hit me with your best shot.”

Lance burst out laughing and doubled over as he clutched at the sides of his stomach. “Holy quiznak, that was the cheesiest thing I have ever heard.”

Keith scoffed at Lance's laughter. “I’m sure it is, Lance, but that’s not the point.”

“And what, exactly, is the point, Mr. Kogane?” asked Lance, the remnants of laughter still stuck in his voice.

“That you have accepted the challenge in trying to show me the best time of my life?”

Lance gestured to the space between them. “Well, I showed you a good time today. Shouldn’t be too hard to replicate, don’t you think?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Psh, I’d like to see you try, McClain.”

“Ha! You’re on.”


	5. We Had A Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fine. Don’t believe me. But I’ll have you know that I’m the best promise keeper on this side of the Universe.” Lance huffed.

Lance was distressed, to say the least. The screeching sound of the metal hangers being pushed around the closet resonated through the apartment like an echo chamber.

“Dude, could you please have your outfit crisis at a different time? It’s not exactly convenient for me right now. Need I remind you that I’m trying to study?” Hunk groaned into his textbook.

Lance swivelled around with an outraged gasp. “It’s not ‘convenient’ for you? I’ll tell you what’s not convenient. I have to meet Keith Kogane in twenty five minutes and I don’t have anything to wear!”

Hunk threw a pitying look at the mound of clothes piled on Lance’s bed. “Buddy, didn’t we have this conversation yesterday? I thought you decided on what outfit you wanted last night? You went on and on about the importance of pre-planning or something like that.”

“Okay, yes, but I woke up this morning and changed my mind. I was practically sleep drunk last night. I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

“Why do you care so much anyway? What happened to the whole ‘Keith is my ultimate rival’ business?”

Lance shot Hunk a look. “Dude, you don’t understand. He freaking _challenged_ me, and you know good ol’ Lancey Lance never backs down from a challenge.”

“First of all, that nickname is getting old real fast, and second, I don’t see why this matters so much. You’re going to get coffee, not attend a coronation ceremony. Just be chill. I’m sure it’ll be fine no matter what you wear.”

Pidge rubbed at her temples. She was sitting across from Hunk with her textbook out and sporting a tired expression. “Lance, what you’re wearing is fine. Just go. Besides, you have precisely 4 minutes to get your ass out the door or you are going to be L-A-T-E.”

Lance tugged at the hem of his navy blue baseball tee and smoothed over his denim jeans. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! Now, get going!” Hunk and Pidge chimed in unison.

“Alright, alright! I’m leaving!” Lance waved quickly as he shuffled on his shoes and grabbed his khaki jacket on his way out the door. “Don’t wait up.”

“We won’t,” called Pidge.

Lance shut the door quickly behind him and ran down the stairs. There was absolutely no way he was going to let Keith arrive at the cafe first.

The brisk walk to the cafe was almost second nature to Lance. After all, those cafe walls had bore witness to a multitude of his stress-induced academic breakdowns.

The smell of the warm cafe was as inviting as ever. The aroma of coffee being brewed as well as the display cases filled with an assortment of pastries proved a familiar sight that Lance knew all too well. Scanning the interior, Lance did a quick look-around for the familiar head of (dare he call it) atrocious hair. And as luck would have it, a glance towards the window revealed Keith, who was seated off to the side of the cafe. Lance approached Keith’s table, and he could spot a cup of coffee and a small plate with a short, brown muffin on it. Dragging his feet, Lance went over and took a seat across from Keith.

“Lance,” said Keith, looking up from his phone with a smirk, “nice of you to finally show up.”

Lance pulled out his own phone to double check the time. “I know what you’re going to say, but I’m not late.”

“I never said that you were,” Keith responded as he returned his phone to his jacket pocket.

“But you were thinking it. You have that look on your face,” Lance interjected.

“I do not. What are you talking about?” Keith muttered as he turned his gaze towards his breakfast. Lance looked down as well, examining the small meal on the table, and gaped.

“Hold on a freaking minute. What do you think you’re doing?” Lance’s eyes visibly widened.

Keith quirked his right eyebrow. “Uh, eating a muffin?”

“No, no, no. What _kind_ of muffin?” Lance barked.

“Um, a bran muffin.”

Lance made an over-exaggerated retching noise. “Did we not have this conversation already, or were you not paying attention, because I distinctly remember recommending this place because of the sweets they had, Keith, _the sweets_.”

“I’m just not that kind of person,” Keith said simply as he reached for his paper cup.

Lance huffed. “Please tell me you at least got something fun to drink, and not what I think you got.”

Keith removed the lid from his drink to reveal the dark, tar-like substance that sloshed dangerously close to the lip of the cup. “Oops.”

“Unbelievable. Just unbelievable. I dragged you here to try a latte, and you spite me by ordering some dirty bean water.”

Keith took a satisfactory sip before setting it down on the table. “I live my life, and you live yours, McClain.”

“That’s it. We’re getting you something more exciting,” Lance announced as he grabbed Keith’s elbow, pulling him towards the front of the cafe.

“Oi, Rolo! Hook me up with one of your finest _mille-feuille_ please!”

Rolo flashed Lance the universal sign for ‘okay’ and proceeded to fulfill the order.

“Wait, what did you just order for me?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll _love_ it.” Lance stood up and pulled his wallet out from his back pocket. The slice sat on a pale, white plate that Lance handed to Keith while he paid for the treat. Keith looked at it skeptically but otherwise said nothing. They returned to Keith’s table, taking their respective seats as Lance handed Keith one of the forks. “Go for it.”

Keith sat there just examining the treat at first. He eyed the multiple layers, the delicate swirls of cocoa and powdered sugar on the top, and the overall presentation of it.

“This looks kind of…” Keith began before Lance cut in.

“Delicious? Exciting? More appetizing than a single, boring muffin?”

Keith shook his head and poked at the edge of the _mille-feuille_ with his fork. “I was going to say sweet.”

“Well, it is sweet,” said Lance, putting his elbows on the table and resting his head in one hand, “but that’s one of the best things about it. It’s got plenty of layers, and manages to balance the crunch of the puffy layers with the smooth custard of some of the inner ones.” Keith’s lack of excitement seemed to bother Lance because he didn’t wait long before continuing with, “It is fantastic, okay? Like I said before, they’re not as good as Hunk’s are. I’m sure he’ll be happy to whip some up for us if we ask, but tasting the deliciousness that is the _mille-feuille_ should be your top priority.”

Keith chuckled softly to himself. “This thing had better be the most amazing dessert I’ve ever tasted, Lance.”

“Believe me; it is amazing. There are plenty of different versions of it across Europe. Usually, they’re made as cakes, and this would be a slice of it. Considering the fact that you drink your coffee black, this is something sweet that can offset the bitterness in your coffee.”

“That sounded a lot more official than I thought it would. I’m impressed.”

Instead of puffing out his chest proudly, Lance gave Keith an easy smile. “Don’t get too excited. Hunk told me that, and he’s a culinary genius.”

“Thank you, Hunk,” said Keith. He cut into the slice carefully with the side of his fork and brought a small piece of the pastry to his mouth.

Lance’s eyes grew with expectation. “Well? How is it? Amazing, isn’t it? I knew you’d like it!”

Keith swallowed. “Hold on just a minute, I haven’t even said anything yet, and you’re already interviewing me like I’m on some weird Food Network show.”

“I can’t help it. I just really want to know what you think.”

“Is that so?” Keith teased as he set down the fork neatly next to the plate and resumed sipping at his coffee.

“Um, yes? So, how’s it taste?” Lance really took the time to drag out his sentence.

“I mean, I was right. It was sweet.”

“That’s it?” Lance seemed to deflate immediately. “Come on, man. You’ve gotta give me more than that.”

Keith shrugged. “What more do you want me to say?”

“Just give me your honest opinion. Did you like it or not?”

Keith glanced down at the pastry and smirked. “It’s okay.”

Lance was gaping, completely and utterly  _offended_ at Keith’s lack of enthusiasm. “ _Excuse me_? Just okay?”

“Yup,” said Keith lightly as he cut another forkful of the dessert and ate it.

“The audacity.” Lance narrowed his eyes at Keith, and Keith returned his gaze, completely at ease as he chewed away. “I can’t believe you, man.”

“Believe what you want. I didn’t say that it was bad.”

“You didn’t say that it was good either, Keith.” Lance leaned into his seat and narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”

“Maybe Hunk’s will taste better,” said Keith. The words made Lance grin knowing that Keith was considering meeting the rest of Lance’s friends, even if it was only for the purpose of eating the desserts that Hunk produced.

“They will, or at least they should.”

“We’ll have to see, I guess.”

“We _will_ see,” said Lance confidently. “Hunk’s food is amazing, and you’ll be in love with his food once you eat it.”

“You’re really confident about this, huh?”

“Hunk is my friend and I have faith in him. Besides, if you don’t want it,” Lance raised his fork threateningly, “then I’ll eat it for you.”

“What?” Keith immediately pulled the plate closer to himself, guarding the pastry with his own fork. “No way, man, it’s mine.”

“You’re the one who said it was just ‘okay’.” Lance’s fork got closer to Keith’s plate. “Lemme have some.”

“No!” Keith brandished his fork so that it clinked against Lance’s. Although his expression was that of annoyance, Lance could spot the edges of a smile hinting on Keith’s mouth. “Don’t even try.”

“Why not, _Keith_?” Lance pressed their forks together, trying to push Keith’s back. “Scared I’d eat it all and expose the truth? That you actually really like it?”

“Lance,” said Keith as seriously as possible, “I don’t care how much you want to eat this thing. It’s mine to eat, and I’m going to finish it. Every. Last. Bite.”

“Well, excuse you, or did you happen to forget who bought this for you in the first place?” Lance argued as he continued to clank his fork against Keith’s.

“Ha, precisely! _You_ bought it for _me_.” Keith smirked victoriously.

Lance started to retreat his fork. Okay, yeah, he did indeed buy the _mille-feuille_ for Keith, but that was just to prove a point. Yet, the more he antagonized Keith, the more fun he felt he was having. They didn’t speak much at the Garrison, and they barely acknowledged each other’s existence until recently, but hanging out together just felt so _natural_.

Lance set his fork down next to his latte. “Okay, okay, it’s all yours.”

Keith took another small bite. “Thank you for conceding.”

In the split second in which the fork was still hanging in Keith’s mouth, Lance swiped his index finger on top of the pastry, collecting a healthy amount of icing.

“What was that for?” Keith sputtered.

Lance licked the icing off his finger and shot a sly wink at Keith. “Just collecting my taxes.”  

Before Keith could retort with any sort of comment, a cellphone was shoved in front of his face. When he looked at Lance for further clarification, all he got was Lance nudging the phone closer to him.

“Um, what did you want me to do with this?” Keith asked quietly as he picked up the phone with his free hand.

“Put your number in it, of course! How else would I be able to contact you when Hunk has created one of his delicious masterpieces?” Lance grinned.

“Oh! Um, yeah, sure.” Keith hastily opened up the Contacts app, typed in all his information, and handed the phone back to Lance.

“Perfect! I’ll call you and that way you’ll have my number too!” Lance chirped as he proceeded to dial Keith’s number. “I promise to only use this number for good!”

“And somehow I’m having trouble believing you.”

“Fine. Don’t believe me. But I’ll have you know that I’m the best promise keeper on this side of the Universe.” Lance huffed.

Keith could only smile in return as he continued to finish the remaining piece of his pastry. He would never admit it, but it really was good.


	6. Maybe I Don't Have A Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lance,” Keith got out finally, “you… you’re great,” he finished lamely.

It took a total of two days before Keith received a message from Lance. He was honestly surprised that it had taken Lance that long to send him something, considering that Lance had already gone ahead and added him on Snapchat as well. Lance had always seemed like the talkative type both in and out of class, and Keith had assumed that Lance would be just as chatty by phone. In the past forty-eight hours, he had just gotten used to the idea that Lance was only talkative in person when the phone buzzed that afternoon.

Keith pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen as Lance’s name lit up the display. He opened the message, reading its contents curiously as another notification came in from Snapchat.

 **Lance: -** started a conversation with Keith Kogane - 

 **Lance  
** _guess who?_

Keith rolled his eyes and took a break from cleaning his room to text back.

 **Keith  
** _Like, the band?_

 **Lance**  
_you really aren’t going to play along? come on, man!_

 **Keith**  
_What do you have to say, Lance?_

 **Lance**  
_okay so you know how we had that fancy pastry at the campus coffee shop?_

 **Keith**  
_The fancy pastry that I had and that you attempted to steal? Yes, I do recall._

 **Lance**  
_ANYWAY...I told you that Hunk makes one that’s way better and he finally did! He was stress-baking before his last exam and made it just yesterday. Check your snaps!_

Keith’s eyes flicked back to the ghost notification at the top of his phone, and he opened the app. Lance had sent him about three photos. The first was a blurry white and brown picture that Lance had clearly sent in his haste with three exclamations. The other two pictures were more detailed. Keith could make out three layers of cream and sliced strawberries with biscuits sandwiched in between. The dusting of powdered sugar on top made the pastry look absolutely divine, and Keith was reminded of eating that _mille feuille_ for the first time at the coffee shop. It hadn’t looked like Hunk’s at all, and if Hunk’s pastry tasted as good as it looked, then Keith was sure that he’d enjoy it.

He had definitely downplayed his enjoyment at the shop. Lance had suspected his deceit, but Keith had been insistent that the _mille_ _feuille_ had indeed been just “okay”. He supposed it was a little mean, but it had been funny to see Lance genuinely annoyed by Keith’s lack of enthusiasm. It was entertaining to rile him up, and part of Keith wondered if that was what Lance felt whenever they bantered. Did he also enjoy their (now) playful back and forths?

Keith returned to the conversation at hand, remembering that a conversation meant he had to actually respond. He smirked as he typed his next line.

 **Keith  
** _It looks…?_

Lance took the bait. Of course.

 **Lance  
** _actually, Keith, it looks delicious.  
I swear to god, if you were going to say that it looks “okay”, I’d probably have to kill you_

 **Keith  
** _First of all, you know I’d best you in hand to hand combat. I’ve had training for years. Secondly, I’m entitled to my own opinion??_

 **Lance  
** _Fine, you meanie. But!! You’ve gotta taste it! The way it looks is one thing, but the way it tastes is on another freaking level. Like, omg._

 **Keith  
** _I mean, I do recall you saying that Hunk’s desserts warrant some sort of spiritual experience._

 **Lance  
** _Precisely!! Which is why you have to get your butt over here right now, mister._

 **Keith  
** _what_

 **Lance  
** _Dude! Just come over and try this! You won’t regret it!_

 **Keith  
** _umm, can I pass?_

 **Lance  
** _Keith. Come on. Would I ever lie to you?  
_ _WAIT! Don’t answer that._

 **Keith  
** _just text me the address and I’ll be there in a few. However, just to be clear, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for Hunk._

 **Lance  
** _!!!!! Okay!! See you!!_

Keith chucked his phone on the bed and grabbed the sweatshirt hanging off his desk chair. Within a couple seconds, his phone pinged, signalling that Lance had sent him the address of his apartment. Pulling the sweatshirt over his head and smoothing out the hairs that had shifted out of place, Keith swiped his keys and wallet off the shoe cabinet and headed out.

It didn’t take long for Keith to arrive at Lance’s apartment. It turned out that Lance only lived a couple blocks away from the main campus, and was just steps away from the Observational Astronomy building. Keith pulled out his phone to let Lance know he had arrived.

 **Keith** : - started a conversation with Lance McClain -

 **Keith  
** _Hey, so, I’m here, I think? Your building is the black one with white trim, right?_

 **Lance  
** _Yupp! Just walk through the front doors and I’ll buzz you in. I’m in Unit 604._

 **Keith  
** _Okay, I’m on my way._

 **Lance  
** _See you soon, mullet man!_

 **Keith  
** _Strike three. Blocked and reported._

 **Lance  
** _As if. You’d never block me. I’m too entertaining ^^_

When the elevator doors finally opened, Keith quickly stepped in and pushed the button for level 6. During the short ride up, Keith took some time to gather his thoughts. In this seemingly short amount of time, he’d been spending a lot of it with Lance. Of course Lance was the one who always initiated everything, but it’s not like Keith rejected the offers either. What exactly was happening here? Their friendship (could Keith even call themselves friends?) hadn’t started out like a traditional friendship would have, but the more time they spent together, it was clear that this was a type of friend that Keith had never had before.

If he had to be honest, Shiro was the only person he could really call a friend. Being more on the reclusive side, Keith mainly focused on his studies. His academics were the most important thing to him, and Keith didn’t care if the by-product of this was a non-existent social life. He’d worked too hard to be accepted into the Galaxy Garrison, and if that meant he wouldn’t have any friends, so be it. Therefore, having Lance waltz into his life like this and turn everything upside down was something that Keith never expected happening.

Surely enough, the elevator arrived on the sixth floor, and Keith headed off in the direction of Lance’s unit. After locating it with minimal difficulty, Keith gently tapped three knocks on the wooden door. It didn’t take long for the door to open, revealing Lance and his welcoming smile.

“Keith! I’m so glad you could make it! Come on, the kitchen’s this way!” Lance greeted him excitedly. Keith nodded and gave an acknowledging smile in return.

Lance’s apartment was pretty much what Keith expected. Knowing that he shared the space with Hunk, it was pretty obvious that there were two college boys living there. It wasn’t messy per se, but it definitely looked ‘homey’. Though the area wasn’t crowded with furniture or appliances, it was hard to miss the amassment of space-themed memorabilia that was sitting on every shelf and hanging off every wall.

“Wow, you guys sure take astronomy pretty seriously,” Keith marvelled, picking up a small silver trinket resembling the Lyra constellation and fiddling it around in his hands.

“Haha, yeah, me and Hunk are pretty dedicated, I would say,” Lance replied.

Keith returned the ornament to its home on the shelf and continued to follow Lance into what he could only presume was the kitchen.

The stark contrast the monochrome kitchen had compared to the rest of the apartment was hard to miss. The white marble counters were virtually spotless while the solid black matte cabinet doors were decorated in a methodically organized wall of post-it notes. With a quick glance, Keith was able to make out some of the notes, most of them being Hunk reminding Lance to bring his lunch and to rest properly. He had to admit, that was pretty cute. Suddenly, Lance’s voice cut him out of his daze.

“Trust me, it’s not always this clean. When Hunk heard I was expecting company, he scrubbed this place down like a madman.” Lance chuckled. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Keith couldn’t help but give Lance a gentle smile. He liked the moments in which Lance was genuinely being himself. No flashy, overcompensating personality or the need for constant bantering, but rather peaceful moments of almost domesticity.

“Speaking of Hunk, is he here too, or..?” Keith asked while settling down into one of the bar stools by the kitchen island.

“Oh, he actually left about 30 minutes ago to write his last midterm exam before Christmas break. Remember when I said he was stress baking? It was for his Theoretical Physics exam,” Lance clarified as he took down two ceramic plates from the cabinet and set one of them down in front of Keith.

“Hey, could you grab two forks from the utensil drawer? First one to your left. I’ve gotta take the pièce de résistance out of the fridge.”

Keith pulled out the top drawer and retrieved two metal forks. “Yes, sir.”

Lance cautiously set the  _mille-feuille_ onto the counter of the kitchen island. “Voila, Hunk’s beautiful masterpiece!”

Calling it a 'beautiful masterpiece' was most definitely an understatement in Keith's opinion. The pictures Keith received from Lance paled in comparison to the real thing. How Hunk was able to even create something so stunning under the pretense of stress totally escaped him.

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” Lance said, his voice full of fondness and pride for his friend. “Just one of the perks of having Hunk as a roommate.” He sliced a generous portion of the dessert and placed it gently onto Keith’s plate before serving himself.

Keith examined the pastry and tried to find the best angle in which to approach it. It looked so delicate, even after it had been cut. It almost felt wrong to eat it and make a mess. “Hunk really outdid himself, didn’t he?”  

“Always does,” Lance muffled with his mouth full. He had wasted no time in digging into the dessert that Hunk had meticulously made.

Before Keith could slice into the pastry, he felt Lance’s gaze directed at him. “Um, why are you looking at me like that?”

Lance smiled. “Mr. Keith Kogane, this is your second chance, your redemption arc. Need I remind you of what happened at the cafe? This time, you better give me your _honest_ opinion.”

“I was being honest that time, Lance.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “We both know that you weren’t. But that’s besides the point. What I’m more interested in is what you think of _this_ one.”

Keith eyed the dessert once more before cutting off a small wedge, making sure to include a strawberry in his bite. Once the fruity pastry had entered his mouth, he knew within a millisecond that this was probably the best thing he had ever eaten.

Lance’s expectant gaze could not be ignored. “Well? How is it?”

“I can’t help but feel a certain sense of déjà vu,” Keith joked. “But, if you must know, this is some damn good  _mille-feuille_. Hunk’s capabilities certainly live up to expectations.”

Lance pumped a fist in the air victoriously. “Yes! I knew you’d love it! I’m so glad that I finally found something that you like! Hunk’s gonna be so stoked when he hears that you love it too!”

Keith offered Lance a gentle smile. “Well done, McClain. You’ve finally bested me at something.”

“As if this is the only thing,” Lance playfully scoffed. “Just you wait. With time, I’ll find so many things that I’m better at than you.”

Keith took another bite, a bigger one this time. Lance had already managed to polish off the pastry on his plate, and Keith couldn’t shake the weird feeling of having Lance watch him eat. He was already scrutinized for his first bite, so the attention felt a little destabilizing.

“Slow down, my man. There’s no need to rush,” Lance interrupted. “You’re more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like, so take your time. It’s all good.”

Keith swallowed. “Are you sure?” There was something about his comment that hooked Keith in, and Keith felt something unexpected bubble up inside himself. “I don’t wanna intrude or anything.”

Lance giggled. “Dude, I invited you here to hang out, not just eat dessert. You’re not intruding on anything. I _wanted_ you to be here.” Lance continued to tease. “Does our friendship mean nothing to you?”

Keith felt his chest constrict for a split second. How was it possible for Lance to be so candid with his words? How could he just lay out everything like that? Were they friends? Was this was friendship felt like? Quips and banter and, occasionally, feeling something that you couldn't name but enjoyed all the same? The questions continued to fill Keith’s mind until he realized he was actually supposed to verbally respond to the conversation he was a part of.

“Ah, then I suppose I’m stuck here with you, McClain.” Keith managed to reply without stuttering. Good going, Keith. Way to sound genuine.

“Gasp!” Lance said dramatically. “And to think, I invited you here because I thought you were _fun_ to hang out with.”

The pressure in Keith’s chest returned at full force. “You think I’m fun to be around?”

Lance smiled as he set his fork down on his empty plate. “I mean, yeah, albeit you’re..how do I say this nicely...prickly at times, but we have fun together, don’t we?”

Keith thought back to every interaction he’d ever had with Lance. Things definitely started out on the problematic side, but even he had to admit that hanging out with Lance was something that he enjoyed. But Lance could never know that. After all, Keith had a reputation to keep.

“If you say so.” Keith smirked.

“I do.” Lance wiped his mouth clean with a napkin and set it on his dirty plate. “Now, help me with these plates. Hunk has a thing about doing the dishes immediately after using them.”

Keith placed his plate and fork in the sink alongside Lance’s, and he looked at Lance with challenge glinting in his eyes. “So, who’s washing and who’s drying?”

* * *

One would think that the task of washing a handful of plates and forks was mind-numbingly simple, but throw Keith and Lance into the mix, and you’re just asking for a catastrophe. By the time the dishes ended up clean, both boys had drenched their sweater sleeves and sufficiently managed to soak a significant portion of their jeans.

“Oh my gosh, we’re a mess.” Lance choked out in between laughs. “I’m so sorry.”

Keith grabbed the nearby hand towel and tried to dry the ends of his wet hair (how did that even happen?). “Don’t even apologize, Lance. You attacked me first.”

“Okay, maybe I did, but it was hilarious.” Lance wrung out his sleeve in the sink. “Loosen up a little, man.”

Keith only humphed in response.

Lance grabbed the edge of Keith’s sleeve and pulled him towards his bedroom. “Come on, I’ll find you some new clothes to wear. You’ll get sick if you don’t change out of your wet ones.”

Keith retracted his arm from Lance’s grip, suddenly aware of the physical contact. “Lance, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Lance shrugged. “Suit yourself,” said Lance, heading into his room and leaving the door partly open, “but if you catch a cold, it’s not on me.”

“Relax, Lance, I’m not going to catch a cold just because I was in a wet sweatshirt for a couple hours.”

“Yes, yes, you're very tough,” Lance remarked as he pulled a dry long sleeve shirt from his closet. “You sure you don't need anything?”

Even though the drenched sleeves were starting to get uncomfortable, Keith chose to ignore it. It felt too weird to be borrowing clothes from Lance, and he wasn't prepared to deal with whatever repercussions accompanied that certain circumstance.

“Yeah, I'm good. I’m sure it’ll dry in a couple hours anyway.”

“Alright then. Do what you want.” Lance reappeared in his doorway and gestured for Keith to step into the room. “Dude, you can come in. You don’t have to just stand in the hallway awkwardly.”

“Oh, um, right.” Keith slowly entered Lance’s room, being careful not to touch anything as he carefully stepped around the piles of books and clothes that have made their home on the floor.

Lance’s room was rather simple. Aside from the desk and shelves that were littered with various knick-knacks, everything seemed to have its place. Sitting on the small side table next to the bed was a framed photo of what Keith assumed to be Lance’s family. The joy on their faces was unmistakable. Lance and his family seemed really close, and Keith wondered what it was like for Lance to be spending so much of his time away from home.

“So,” Keith began, “you excited to see your family for Christmas?”

Lance sat down on the bed and patted the space next to him, motioning for Keith to join him. “Yeah, I’m super pumped. I haven’t seen them in a couple months, so it’ll be so cool to finally see everyone again. I haven’t had my mom’s cooking in forever, and I can’t wait to eat myself into a coma during our Christmas dinners.”

Keith chuckled and took a seat next to Lance, careful to leave a space between them. “Must be nice. Sounds like you’re gonna have a lot of fun.”

“It’s never a dull moment with the McClain family, I’ll tell you that much.” Lance’s face had a far off, fond look to it, and Keith felt something in him both close up and melt at that expression. “What about you?” Lance continued. “Are you headed home to see your family too?”

Keith hesitated ever so slightly, his mind racing. He knew that this would come up sooner or later. He’d never expected it to be so soon, but Lance rarely did what Keith expected, so he supposed that some honesty was deserved. “Kind of? Shiro’s the closest thing to family I have, and our apartment isn’t that far from campus, so I’ll sort of be staying in town.”

“Oh. You live with Shiro? I didn’t know that,” Lance said, his brows furrowed as Keith watched him try to work it out. “So are you and Shiro, like, related?”

“He kind of raised me.” Keith swallowed. He’d told this story before, but he’d never felt its weight until now, when he was explaining his past to Lance, of all people. “I was orphaned really young, and Shiro took me under his wing. He basically adopted me and we’ve been living together ever since.”

“I see.” Lance stared at the picture of his family still sitting on the side of his desk. “I- um-”

“You can ask,” Keith said. “Just don’t be weird about it,” Lance glanced back to him, “although I’m sure that might be hard for you.”

Lance cracked a weak smile and went back to gazing at the picture. “What happened? You know, before Shiro started looking out for you and all that?”

He took a deep breath to steady himself, and spoke, his voice softer than he thought it had been. “My parents were just like any other couple; pretty normal, from what little I remember of them,” said Keith. “They were happy like that for a while, living together, and then living with me.” Keith reminded himself to breathe, and continued, “And then they just  _weren’t_ anymore. My mom left first. My dad said she’d left because she had to make a choice, something about her past coming back to haunt her, and she never came back. A few years later, my dad got in a firefighting accident and passed away. I was floating around in the foster system for a couple of years before Shiro took me in and the rest is, as they say, history.”

“Oh.” Lance was unsure of how to respond.

Keith laughed softly at Lance’s awkwardness. “I’m not sure if this will help you picture it, but they were soulmates.” Lance’s eyes met Keith’s sharply, attentive and on high alert. It would have been comical if the conversation wasn’t so serious. “Yup, they were soulmates, all that ‘made for each other’ stuff that you talk about so much in class.” Colour crawled across Lance’s cheeks and Keith leaned back on his hands, the bed sinking under his weight. “Everyone who knew them said that they were soulmates. My dad said so too. Then again, maybe they just thought they were soulmates.” Keith sighed, the words flowing out of them. He felt more in control of himself than ever, as if his conversation with Shiro years ago had merely been practice for this very moment. “I don’t really know, but I always sort of wondered about it. If they were soulmates, if they were as perfect for each other as the stories said they should be, then why would she leave him? Why would they want that? Were they just not good for each other? Was I not good enough?”

Lance, for once, was completely speechless, and Keith almost felt bad for making him that way. To take speech away from the always sunny, always chattering Lance McClain felt like something wrong.

“I still think about it, a lot, but Shiro is my family now. He’s been the only person I’ve considered family in the last eight years. He’s not mixed up with soulmates, he’s dependable, and he’s not going to just pick up and leave. He wouldn’t dare.” Keith let his mouth curve up with mild fondness. “He’s worked to hard to become a TA at the Garrison. He wouldn’t just throw that away, you know?”

“I’m sorry about your parents, Keith,” he said, voice holding none of the pity that Keith had learned to expect when it came to his history, “and thanks for letting me ask about it.”

“You’re welcome.”

They sat in silence for a little, so far away from the lighthearted feelings they had started the afternoon with, that neither of them seemed to know how to go about continuing the conversation.

“Sorry if I made it weird,” said Keith eventually.

Lance lay down on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. “Come lay with me, Keith.” Keith copied him slowly, careful of where he placed his wet sleeves. “I know,” he began, not looking at Keith at all, “that I’m amazing and all, but sometimes I don’t feel like I’m good enough either, like I’ll never be good enough.” Keith’s silence must have encouraged him, because Lance continued with, “It’s something I’ve always thought about, and I try not to let it bother me because, let’s be honest, I’m pretty great. But I’m not, you know, special or anything. There’s nothing about me that people couldn’t find in someone else. Hunk’s kind, smart, a brilliant chef and a pretty cool dude to hang out with. Pidge is so young and she’s already accomplished so much just by getting into the Garrison and being, like, a hacker for hire on the side, I swear.”

“And you,” Lance continued, eyes still fixed on something beyond the bedroom. “You’re doing all these cool things like crushing everyone during our flight simulations and ace-ing classes. You’re good at literally everything.” The compliments burned Keith’s lips shut. “And I’m not. All these people around me have something uniquely theirs, like a specialty and a passion, and I just don’t have that. At all.” Lance sounded so sure of something that was clearly so painful. Beyond not knowing how to respond, Keith was silenced by not quite knowing _what_ to say. A part of him felt like he should speak, but what could he tell this new friend of his that wouldn’t sound strange coming from him? By all rights, Keith was a stranger, a frequent acquaintance.

“You do,” Keith tried. “You have a passion. I know that you do.”

“Sure, like believing in soulmates?” Lance scoffed to himself and glared hard at his ceiling. “Maybe believing in soulmates is something that’s different about me, not that I’d call my -what does Iverson say?- ‘dedication’ to it an accomplishment. Most people these days don’t believe in that stuff anymore, so does that make my specialty believing in the existence of soulmates? Or maybe it’s that I can’t even find mine, no matter how hard I look?” Lance’s accompanying laugh was weak. Keith wished he could make it would stop.  “Or maybe it’s because my soulmate has already found me, but they see how useless I am and they just don’t _want_ me.”

“Lance,” Keith got out finally, “you… you’re great,” he finished lamely.

Lance huffed a potential laugh. “Gee thanks, Keith.”

“No, I mean it. You’re great as you are. What does it matter if you find your soulmate or not? You could have a great life with someone. The love of your life could show up right this moment and I’m sure it’d be just as amazing if not better than finding your soulmate.”

“Keith,” Lance sounded like he was in the middle of a laugh, this one a little more genuine, “the love of your life _is_ your soulmate.”

“No, they’re not,” argued Keith. “They’re different. One is predestined for you by the ‘universe’,” Keith made air quotes angrily, “and the other is someone who fell in love with you all on their own, someone who chose you first.”

“Keith, you don’t even believe in this stuff,” said Lance. “You can’t tell me that you-”

“Lance, I don’t need to believe in soulmates to at least have an opinion about this.”

“Keith, be honest.” Lance looked at him finally, blue eyes piercing. “Do you even believe in soulmates?”

“No,” Keith said instinctively, and Lance sighed the kind of patronizing sigh that frustrated Keith to his core.

“You don’t believe in them, so argument invalid.” A sick feeling settled in Keith’s stomach. Lance was going to dismiss him. He was just going to lump Keith together with the rest of the people who didn’t believe in soulmates, the same people who probably made Lance feel like shit about believing in such a concept, the same concept that Keith didn’t believe in.

The same concept Keith was doing such intense research on, a part of him hoping to disprove it.

“Lance-” Keith tried, but Lance was already turning onto his side, away from Keith.

“Please, Keith,” he said, voice quiet, “I don’t want to fight you on this.”

Keith nodded mutely before realizing that Lance couldn’t see him. “Yeah,” he said, half glad to drop the topic. He wanted to respect Lance’s privacy, but Keith was a curious creature. He wanted to ask Lance about his conviction, his confidence in its existence. If there was something Lance knew that Keith didn’t about soulmates, Keith really wished he knew it too. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he mumbled. “Want to go finish up the other half of the pastry before Hunk gets home?”

“Sure.”

Lance got up and left his room, but Keith lay there for a few extra moments, wishing he’d known the right thing to say.


	7. No Secrets, No Barriers, No Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge’s eyes grew sympathetic. “Lance, you know that if anything’s wrong, you can come talk to us, right? We’re your best friends. We care about you.”

“Lance?”

Lance looked up from his phone to see Pidge and Hunk watching him from across the kitchen counter. Both his friends had been in deep conversation when he’d looked up from his phone last. As far as he could remember, it had been about something computer related or something similar, at least.

“Uh, yeah? What’s up?”

Pidge gently flicked Lance’s forearm. “We were asking how your Christmas break went, you dummy.”

Lance set down his phone to gently rub the spot on his arm where Pidge had so viciously attacked him. “Did you have to hurt me in order to get the answer to that?”

Hunk set his elbows onto the counter and propped his head onto one of his hands. “Lance, your eyes have been glued to your phone an awful lot lately, and you seem kind of distracted. Is everything okay? Did something happen at home over Christmas?”

“What? No, everything’s fine at home. Nothing happened,” Lance quickly defended.

Pidge’s eyes grew sympathetic. “Lance, you know that if anything’s wrong, you can come talk to us, right? We’re your best friends. We care about you.”

Hunk nodded in agreement. “Exactly! Nothing can come between the Three Amigos!”

“Wow, guys, I don’t know what prompted all this sappiness, but thank you. You guys really are the best friends ever.”

Pidge playfully punched Lance on the shoulder. “Dude, now you’re getting all sappy.”

“Hey! Was there really a need for you to hurt me a _second_ time?”

“Okay, guys, as much as I know how you all love punching each other, we should all try to get some sleep,” Hunk managed to say while stifling a yawn. “We have Astronomy with Professor Coran tomorrow morning, and our brains need to be functioning at optimal capacity if we wanna ace that final.”

Lance stood up from his seat, stretched out his arms, and shoved his phone in the pocket of his hoodie. “Alright, I guess it’s bedtime for all of us. Pidge, text us when you get home safe! Goodnight guys!”

As Lance made his way to his room, a chorus of “goodnights” could be heard echoing throughout the apartment. Though he missed home, it was still nice to be back.

Quickly going through his nighttime skin care regimen and routine, Lance tucked himself under the covers before reaching for his phone to shoot off one more message.

 **Lance:** \- started a conversation with Keith Kogane -

 **Lance  
** _Hey, everything’s gonna be fine tomorrow. Don’t worry about it too much._

 **Keith  
** _Well, I wasn’t stressed about it until you mentioned it._

 **Lance  
** _Come on, it’ll be fine. They’ll love you._

 **Keith  
** _How can you be so sure?_

 **Lance  
** _Listen, they’re my best friends, I would know._

 **Keith  
** _Fine, fine, but if anything bad happens tomorrow, it is entirely your fault._

**Lance  
** _!! You can’t blame me!!_

**Keith  
** _Too late. Goodnight, Lance._

 **Lance  
** _Goodnight to you too, Mullet Man._

Plugging the charging cable into his phone, Lance set the device on the nightstand next to his bed and settled into his cocoon of a bed. He took several deep breaths to calm the subtle, yet still present, anxious nerves. Tomorrow was going to be _interesting._

* * *

As expected, morning arrived too early, and Lance found it the ultimate chore to prepare for his 9am lecture. Somehow managing to find a decent set of clothes to wear, Lance trudged his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth. With the toothbrush hanging halfway out of his mouth, he retrieved his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and began to type away.

 **Lance** : - started a conversation with Keith Kogane -

 **Lance  
** _Good morning Keithy Boy! Hope you’re ready for a great day ^^_

 **Keith  
** _Morning, Lance. What’s got you all chipper this morning?_

 **Lance  
** _Just trying to start the day off with a positive mental attitude!_

 **Keith  
** _Uh huh…_

 **Lance  
** _Don’t judge me. Anyways! I gotta finish getting ready. See you in class!_

 **Keith  
** _Yeah, see you._

 **Lance  
** _Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone!_

 **Keith  
** _*retches*_

 **Lance  
** _That was SO RUDE!!_

Hunk’s voice suddenly cut through Lance’s temporary (and quite exaggerated) virtual temper tantrum. “Lance! We’ve only got 10 minutes till we gotta leave. Hurry up!”

Lance rinsed out his mouth and half ran to the kitchen. “Hunk, you’re a lifesaver. What would I do without you?”  

“You’d probably die of starvation and exhaustion,” Hunk answered as he shoved a peanut butter and banana tortilla wrap into Lance’s hand. “Now, let’s get going. Pidge is probably already there.”

They set off, locking the door behind them and taking the elevator down to the main floor. The walk to the astronomy building was thankfully not too long, and they arrived at their classroom in mid-conversation about the importance of the campus ducks.

“If they want to be here, they have to share the space with everyone else,” Lance was saying as they walked up the steps of their lecture hall. “Like, it’s not like they can’t see us coming. They can see, what, 340 degrees around them but then get mad at me when I walk too close? It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not their fault, Lance. You don’t want to move, they don’t want to move,” said Hunk. He led the pair of them into Pidge’s row and offered their friend a smile as they approached. “Morning, Pidge.”

“Morning, guys.” She looked between her two friends with a smile of her own. “May I ask why we are discussing ducks this morning?”

“Because one decided to attack Lance when he got too close to it,” Hunk explained. He and Lance took their seats next to Pidge, happy to put down their bags and ease into the swivel chairs.

Pidge leaned back in her chair to look around Hunk at Lance. “Again?”

“It sees me coming and still refuses to move. Am I just supposed divert my own path when it can just move onto the grass to avoid me? Sidewalks are for people, Pidge, not ducks looking for bread to snack on.”

“Technically, ducks aren’t supposed to eat bread,” Hunk pointed out. “It’s hard for them to digest, and actually damages their digestive system.”

Lance turned away from his friends to unzip his backpack, which hung on the back of his chair. He pulled his notebook out of his bag while Pidge and Hunk launched into a discussion on what constituted “acceptable” duck food options.  

He was glancing up to check the clock at the back of the lecture hall when he spotted Keith unpacking his own items two rows away. It didn’t take much time for Keith to look up from his papers and notice Lance as well. They acknowledged each other with a quick nod before Lance turned back around to face the front of the room just in time to see Professor Coran step up to the podium.

“Good morning, class,” Professor Coran began cheerfully. “I hope you all had a good winter break and are ready to start the second half of the course. Today, we’re going to be talking about exoplanets and their significance to us as potential astro-explorers. I hope all of you are ready for a marvellous lesson!”

Lance leaned over to Hunk, pen still poised over his open notebook. “He’s in a really good mood today,” he whispered.

“He’s been in a good mood every day we’ve seen him,” Hunk whispered back.

“Fair.” Lance watched as Professor Coran began going through the slideshow. “How long do you think it’s going to take him to mention spaceship engineering?”

“Maybe ten minutes?”

“I’m thinking more like five.”

“I bet that within those five minutes, he's going to mention his grandpa too.” Lance giggled.

Hunk scribbled down the first main concept into his notebook. “No lecture by Professor Coran is ever complete without an honourable mention of his grandfather, Hieronymous Wimbelton.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Lance replied in a hushed tone in hopes of not attracting too much attention. He did not need to be on Professor Coran’s blacklist, especially with the final exam coming up in a couple months.

By the eighth slide of the professor’s presentation, the material was riveting enough to hold Lance’s full attention until the fifteen minute break that was allotted halfway through the lecture.

As soon as the break started, Lance rummaged around in his backpack for his phone.

 **Lance** : - started a conversation with Keith Kogane -

 **Lance  
** _We’re still on for lunch, right?_

 **Keith  
** _Why are you texting me when we’re literally sitting in the same room…_

 **Lance  
** _Because it’s more convenient! Anyways, answer my question!_

 **Keith  
** _Yeah, I guess we’re still on for lunch. Have you told them yet?_

 **Lance  
** _Uh, not exactly? I will soon, though. I promise!_

 **Keith  
** _Ugh, okay._

 **Lance  
** _Did you wanna walk with us to lunch too? We’re going right after class._

 **Keith  
** _No, that’s alright. I have to talk to Shiro about something first. I’ll meet you there._

 **Lance  
** _Okay, I guess I’ll see you in the caf then._

 **Keith  
** _Yeah, see you._

Returning the phone to his backpack, Lance turned to face Pidge and Hunk. “So, what’s the latest news?”

“You mean you _haven’t_ been paying attention to the intense philosophical debate about the consequences of Omelas that Hunk and I were just having?” Pidge responded, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lance returned a sheepish grin. “Um, can’t say that I was. Sorry!”

“Y’know, Lance, you seem quite preoccupied with your phone lately. Like, way more than usual.”

“It’s really nothing, Hunk. Please don’t worry about it. I promise I’ll tell you the reason soon.” Lance replied while fidgeting with the loose coloured pens scattered across his notebook.

Hunk smiled. “Lance, it’s okay to have your own private life. You don’t have to tell us everything, but if something truly is bothering you, we’ve got your back.”

“Thanks, guys, honestly. But I swear that all of this will be cleared up today.” Lance explained.

Pidge readjusted her glasses and served Lance an inquisitive gaze. “Well, now you’ve got me curious.”

Before Lance could utter another word, Professor Coran’s voice rang through the lecture hall. “Class, please focus your attention back to the front of the lecture hall as we will resume our lesson as of this moment.”

Lance refocused on Professor Coran before exchanging one last comment with his friends. “I’ll explain everything at lunch. Pinky swear.”

A gruelling one and a half hours later, the lecture concluded with a reminder that the summative project deadline was fast approaching.

Lance swiftly packed away his belongings and made his way towards the lecture doors with his friends. They walked through the gray halls of the Garrison, following the flow of students headed towards the cafeteria. “Man, I’m starving. Anyone know what’s on the menu in the caf today?”

“I really want to say that it’s those new chicken strips they introduced at the end of last semester,” said Hunk ruefully, “but I think there was an issue with the shipment so they’ve switched back to the green food goo. Sorry, buddy.”

Lance groaned. “And here I was hoping for something more exciting.”

“Exciting? At the cafeteria?” Pidge gave her friend a grin. “What kind of food were you even thinking of?”

“Maybe garlic knots?” suggested Lance as he pushed through the twin doors that led into the cafeteria. Long lights hung from the room’s high ceilings, and they illuminated numerous chairs and tables, many of which were already occupied. The wall on the far left of the room was adorned with colourful flags and badges commemorating the piloting achievements of the top performers at the Garrison.

“Garlic knots?” laughed Hunk. They queued up behind the line shuffling into the kitchen area. Lance peeked around the people in front of him to catch a glimpse of the food, which sat safely behind steamed glass cases.  “Considering that the Garrison has every kind of blended food imaginable, I could see garlic knots as their most exciting venture.”

“More exciting than chicken strips?” asked Pidge just as playfully. “What an absolute _dream_ that would be.”

“Or even better,” said Lance as he took a few steps forward. “What if you could mix the two of them together?” Lance fixed his large friend with hopeful eyes. “Hunk?”

Hunk nodded slowly to himself, mulling the suggestion over. “Yeah, yeah, I can definitely think of a few ways that would work out well.”

“Yes! Maybe we can do one of those for dinner this weekend or something?” Lance suggested eagerly, taking three gray eatery trays and passing them down to his friends. “I know that we basically just came back from break, but I miss my family already, and Grandma’s garlic knots are truly one of a kind.”

“Better than the ones at Pizza Shack?”

“At least ten times- one second Hunk.” Lance pulled away to order food from the cafeteria ladies, smiling genially at them as he made his order, swiping his meal card swiftly at the counter, and waiting for Hunk to complete his transaction before starting up again, the pair of them waiting by the cash register for Pidge. “At _least_ ten times better than the Pizza Shack, Hunk. That stuff is a quick snack, but Grandma’s recipe is truly remarkable.”

“Is that why you’ve been on your phone so often?” asked Hunk, allowing Pidge to catch up with them and guiding his friends to a safe corner of the cafeteria where they could eat in relative peace. “You always did get a little more homesick than the rest of us.”

“Psh, like you guys aren’t homesick.”

“I know I’m not,” said Pidge taking a seat next to Hunk. “Most of my family are stuck at this school anyways, so if anything, it feels like I brought my family with me.”

“More like they brought _you_ ,” joked Lance.

Pidge set down her backpack on the closest empty chair. “Whatever. All I know is that I cannot go a single day without somehow seeing Matt or my dad in the hallways.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing, Pidge,” Hunk commented.

Lance set down his tray and used his foot to hook and slide the chair out from the table. “Yeah, I’d love to be able to see my parents and siblings more often. But alas, I must fulfill my destiny to become the greatest pilot in the universe.”

“You, my friend,” said Pidge with a wide grin, “are destined for greatness.”

“Thanks, Pidge,” Lance replied. He hung his backpack on the back of his seat as he sat down, eyes casually scanning the cafeteria for Keith’s dark hair. “I appreciate such sincere confidence.”

“You are most welcome.”

“Great!” Hunk pushed Lance’s tray closer to his friend. “Eat up, guys. We have a few hours before our next class, so let’s just eat in peace, hm? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Yeah, of course,” agreed Lance, meeting Hunk’s eyes brightly. Hunk and Pidge grabbed their forks and poked at the food in their plates a moment, while Lance took another look around the cafeteria. Surely, Keith’s conversation with Shiro would be over by now. How long did it take to ask Shiro a simple question? What could they even be talking about? The final exam was still months away and their summative project wasn’t due for at least another three weeks. Ugh, maybe he was just overthinking it.

And as fate would have it, Lance’s phone buzzed on the table.

 **Keith** : - started a conversation with Lance McClain -

 **Keith  
** _I just got out of my meeting with Shiro. Headed over to the caf now._

 **Lance  
** _Ah, okay! We’ve already snagged a spot near the back windows. Plus, I saved you a seat!_

 **Keith  
** _Gotcha. See you soon._

 **Lance  
** _See you in a few!_

Placing his phone down on the table next to his meal tray, Lance returned to the discussion Hunk and Pidge were having concerning the upcoming group presentation in their Astrophysics seminar class.

“Have we all decided on a topic yet? I think the deadline for topic submission is this Thursday.” Lance chipped in as he picked up a spoonful of the indiscernible food goo, which boasted a bright cyan hue rather than the usual green.

“Well, I was thinking about researching the cosmic microwave background and its polarization. I read a little bit about it in a journal article the other day and it sounds super cool!” Hunk offered.

“That sounds like a great idea! We could also talk about how the cosmic microwave background relates to the possible theories of the origin of the universe!” Pidge chimed in excitedly.

Lance watched as his two best friends animatedly discussed presentation topics. Pidge and Hunk were most definitely the geekiest people he knew, but that was what made them the best. It was rare for Lance to find something that ignited his passion, so it truly was great that his friends had found their own niches.

“Guys, as interesting as that sounds, can’t we do something a little more fun? Like, how about dark energy and dark matter or even time travel? It’d be so cool to do a presentation on wormholes, wouldn’t it?” Lance half-complained in his best persuasive tone.

“What’s this I hear about wormholes?” A voice emerged from behind.

“Keith!” Lance squeaked. “You’re here!”

Settling in the seat next to Lance, Keith unzipped his bag and pulled out the tupperware he stored his lunch in.

Lance’s eyes visibly widened. “Whoa, dude, you make _and_ bring your own meals? That’s super impressive.” Having zero respect for Keith’s personal space, Lance unconsciously leaned towards him to get a closer look at the dish he could potentially leech off of. “Man, it looks really good too. You finally got around to making that stir fry recipe we found last week!”

“Um, yeah, it’s really not a big deal, Lance,” Keith meekly replied while trying to mentally repress how physically close Lance was at the moment. He focused instead on pulling out his utensils and moving the food around in its container, steam floating up from the recently reheated meal.“I find it easier to pack a lunch since it offers more flexibility on when I eat and also where. Also, it always beats the food goo here anyways.”

During the entirety of this interaction, Hunk and Pidge quietly remained in their seats, completely dumbfounded. This was something that neither of them could have ever anticipated and, watching it unfold right in front of their eyes, was a spectacle in itself. How had Keith, the boy who was only known to them as their best friend’s number one sworn rival, suddenly transitioned to Lance’s friend? It was all very confusing and frankly did not make any sense without some sort of clarification.

Hunk was first to break the silence. “Hi, my name’s Hunk Garrett. Nice to meet you!” Hunk flashed Keith a genuine smile and extended his arm for a handshake.

Keith returned the gesture warmly. “The pleasure is all mine. I’m Keith. Keith Kogane.”

“Oh, we know who you are,” Pidge interjected. “You pull the highest scores in all the flight simulators and snag the best grades in every class. You're basically a legend around here.”

Keith quirked an eyebrow in mild confusion. “Thank you, I guess?”

“No problem.” Pidge pushed her glasses so they sat more comfortably on the bridge of her nose. “The name’s Pidge, by the way.”

Keith replied with a small smile and acknowledging nod. “It's nice to meet you, Pidge.”

“Nice to meet you too, Keith. Lance here has talked a fair bit about you,” Pidge gestured with her thumb over to Lance, who was in the middle of a bite.

“All good things, I hope?” Keith gave Pidge a diffident grin. He hadn’t expected Lance to actually talk about him to other people, especially his best friends.

“Not exactly,” Pidge teased.

Keith flashed Lance a dirty look which Lance returned with a guilty smile and a shrug. “To be fair, we _did_ start out as rivals, so you can’t expect me to say nice things about you.”

“Why do you keep saying that we’re rivals? What’s with that?” Keith huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back into the plastic chair.

“Yeah, Lance,” said Pidge slyly. “What _is_ with that? One moment you guys are rivals and now you’re friends?”

“Actually,” spoke up Keith, “Lance forced me to be his friend.”

At the curious look from his friends, Lance turned to Keith and stammered, “Excuse me, I did not _force_ you.”

“Oh really?” Keith rose an eyebrow and held up a finger. “Exhibit A: you continually chased me down for several days just to apologize.”

“Well, I felt bad, and you kept ignoring me,” explained Lance.

“Exhibit B: you cornered me at the dropbox and insisted we hang out.”

“Hey!” Lance protested. “You agreed to that. Plus! You said you had fun.” Lance could see Pidge and Hunk exchange a look of amusement from the corner of his eye. From what he could see, they were most definitely enjoying this conversation too much. Couldn’t they see how embarrassing this was for him? Some friends they were.

Meanwhile, Keith held up a third finger. “Exhibit C: There has not been a single day where I haven’t received at least one of those stupid picture joke things from you.”

Lance let out a labouring sigh. “For the last time, they’re called memes, Keith. Memes.”

“Wait, is _he_ the one you’ve been messaging this whole time?” cut in Hunk, looking rapidly between Lance and Keith. “Is that why you’ve been literally glued to your phone 24/7?”

Lance now flushed, fidgeted nervously. Keith seemed unphased and continued eating, but Lance could spot the hint of a smile at the corner of Keith’s mouth. “How do you know I’m not texting other people?” he countered, but Pidge merely rolled her eyes.

“Psh. What other friends do you have besides us, Lance?” she said slyly.

“Gasp. I have friends,” protested Lance as he snagged a piece of sesame chicken from Keith’s container and popped it into his mouth.

Pidge pointed her fork at Lance. “Matt doesn’t count. You are his friend by extension, therefore the argument is void. Besides, after he became a TA, we barely even hangout anymore.”

Keith swallowed another bite of his lunch and directed his gaze towards Pidge. “Are you guys talking about Matt Holt? I didn’t know you guys were friends with him.”

“Oh yeah, we know him real well,” Pidge chuckled. “He’s actually my older brother.”

Keith replaced the lid onto his tupperware. “Ah, I see. He never mentioned having a younger sister, though.”

Lance did not hesitate to cut in. “You know Matt? What? How come you never said anything?”

“It just never came up in conversation, I guess,” Keith began. “And how was I supposed to know that you knew him anyways?”

While Lance fumbled for an answer, Hunk chuckled from the other side of the table. “Keith, I didn’t realize you and Lance got along so well.”

Both Keith and Lance turned Hunk sharply and said, in unison, “No, we don’t.”

Pidge eyed them from over her food with a look of confused awe before turning to Hunk. “Now _that_ was weird.”

“Yeah, you guys are definitely in the ‘friends’ category.” Hunk swallowed a quick spoonful of food goo before smiling at Keith. “So, Keith, Lance mentioned that you made that stir fry on your own, right? What other ingredients did you use?”

“Oh, um,” began Keith before launching into a list. It was impressive how he managed to basically recite the ingredients in what Lance could only assume was the exact same order as the recipe.

Feeling Pidge’s foot bump his from under the table, Lance glanced over at her, and she gave Lance an impressed look. She hadn’t exactly been privy to his frantic worrying about Keith like Hunk had (a fortunate occurrence since Pidge did not live with them), but she seemed to understand that despite his rants about Keith, he currently valued whatever friendship he now had. Gaining Keith’s favour no doubt fell beyond the level of progress that Pidge had anticipated for him when Lance decided to try and reconcile with Keith.

“I’m glad that Lance has another friend that can actually cook,” Hunk was saying. “Maybe you’ll have better luck teaching him how to make more dishes.”

“It’s not like I’m a bad cook,” grumbled Lance, poking at his food.

“You’re not the worst,” said Hunk, “but whenever I try to teach you, you always get distracted.”

“Lance is a better taste tester than he is chef,” teased Pidge.

Keith snickered at Lance’s side, turning away to put the tupperware back into his bag while Lance glared at his friends with mock anger. “How _dare_ you. Being a taste tester is the job with the most danger. How else are we supposed to tell if the chef has cooked something toxic?”

“Hunk doesn’t cook toxic things,” said Pidge matter-of-factly. “He’s _Hunk_. If anyone is making anything toxic, it’s going to be me, and I rarely cook.” She leaned back in her chair with a self-satisfied grin. “So we don’t really need a taste tester.”

“Sure, sure. Say what you want. I’m just trying to be a good friend.”

“You’re a great friend, Lance,” said Hunk supportively. Lance flashed his friend a smile and was about to say something else when he noticed that Keith was putting his backpack back on.

“Excuse me, sir, where do you think you’re going?”

“Um, home?”

“But why? You just got here!”

“I’ve got other things to do, Lance,” said Keith, “especially things that I want to get done before my next class.”

Lance gently pulled on the hem of Keith’s leather jacket in an effort to try to get him to stay and pleaded with the most convincing puppy eyes he could muster. “Come on, what could be more important than spending time with your newfound friends?”

Keith rolled his eyes and relaxed back into the seat. He didn’t remove the backpack, something that Lance noted keenly, but he supposed that this was as good a compromise as any to have Keith stick around. “You and I both know that I have to work on my bike before my next class. It’s a late one, and I'd rather be able to work on it while the sun is still up.”

“Oh! You have a bike?” asked Hunk, perking up. “What kind?”

“It’s a Yamaha Seca II. Not exactly the most glamorous bike around, but it allows me to tinker with it more freely and add modifications if necessary,” Keith answered while scrolling through his camera roll to find a picture of his motorcycle to show Hunk. Hunk ogled at the machine, no doubt in love with it already.

“It looks beautiful. Is it functional?”

“For the most part, yes. She gets me where I need to be.”

“That’s fantastic. I used to work on cars with my dad growing up. I mean, I still kind of work on the truck I have back home, but it’s not the same as having something to work with everyday like I used to. Man, that was the life.” Hunk gave a nostalgic sigh and smiled warmly at Keith. “Is working on your bike more of a pastime?”

Keith nodded. “Yeah. Is it not the same for you?”

“Nah. I’m in the Engineering stream, so creating things and fixing them are my specialty.”

“It’s true,” piped up Lance. “I don’t know how many times something has just broken in our apartment, and Hunk has always found a way to patch it up. It’s incredible.”

“Not everything!” reminded Hunk. “Last year, there was something funky going on with the air conditioner in the building, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what was wrong with it.”

“Not being able to repair the air conditioning unit for the entire apartment building doesn’t make you any less of an engineering genius, Hunk,” Pidge cut in. “You’re basically a prodigy.”

Hunk hid his face behind closed palms. “Oh my gosh, guys, stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

As everyone was busy giggling, Lance leaned towards Keith and whispered close to his ear. “I told you it wouldn’t be so bad. You get along fine with everyone, see?”

Keith shifted his gaze towards Pidge and Hunk’s direction. Frankly, Lance was right. Keith was getting along far better with Pidge and Hunk than he had anticipated. They were friendly, funny, and, just as Lance has said, perfectly clever. They seemed to enjoy his company, and all four of them fit together in a way that Keith was pleasantly surprised with. He was genuinely _happy_ with these new people. It was the beginning of a connection that actually scared Keith a little bit with its ease.

“We should all do this again sometime,” said Hunk, smile still affixed to his face while his eyes were on Keith. Lance always said that Hunk was kind and perceptive. Perhaps he had noticed Keith’s own apprehension? “I don’t want to keep you away from your bike, Keith, especially if you have more classes later today.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” said Keith. He nodded to Hunk and Pidge as he stood. “I may take you up on that whole ‘meeting again’ thing.”

“I hope so,” said Pidge. “It’s about time Lance introduced us to a cool person. Thanks for stopping by, Keith.”

Keith finally looked over at Lance, who seemed about to speak out against Pidge when he stopped short at Keith’s gaze. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Yeah, of course, man. No worries.” Lance may have wanted to say more, but Keith was already pushing in his chair and adjusting the bag on his back. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Pidge nodded eagerly up at him. “You can come sit with us in lecture. You don’t have to sit so far away, dude.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you guys in class, then.” Keith gave them all a short wave before exiting the cafeteria.

The moment he was out of sight, Hunk and Pidge turned to Lance with identical grins on their faces. “Oh my god.”

Lance hastily jumped from his seat in an attempt to escape his friend’s interrogation. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

Hunk yanked Lance back down by the wrist into the chair. “Don’t think you’re getting away that easily. We want answers, Lance. And by answers, we mean a step by step account on how all this happened, details included.”

Folding out his arms in front of him and burying his head in the crook of his right elbow, Lance audibly groaned. “Augh, guys, please don’t do this to me.”

Pidge snickered. “If I remember correctly, you did promise to explain yourself.”

“You certainly did, mi amigo,” Hunk added excitedly.

“Do we have to do this now?” Lance pleaded with his eyes full of desperation, but his friends were unaffected.

“Spill, Lance,” Hunk and Pidge said together.

“What’s there to say? You guys know all the important stuff. I didn’t like him, I accused him of cheating, I _apologized_ , which was no small feat by the way, and then I, y’know, tried to make it up to him.”

“By what? Dating him?”

“Pidge!” cried Lance, scandalized. He hoped that his cheeks weren't as red as he thought they were. In embarrassment at the idea, of course. “What kind of person do you think I am? We hung out a couple times, and that was that. How dare you make accusations against me!”

Hunk placed his hand on Lance’s back. “Bro, we’re kidding. In all honesty, I’m super happy you were able to make friends with Keith. He’s a good dude, and I’m glad everything worked out between the two of you.”

Pidge nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Keith is pretty cool. We kind of expected that you would just apologize and be done with it. We didn’t actually think you guys would become friends, but Hunk’s right. It’s looking like everything really is working out and it’s only been a month!”

Lance jerked his head towards Pidge. “Only a month? And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying,” Pidge grinned mischievously, “you’ve been able to establish a really good friendship in a really short amount of time.”

Had it only been a month? Lance replayed all of the interactions he and Keith have shared over the past month. They hadn’t met more than a handful of times, but Lance had been sure to keep in contact with Keith over the Christmas break. After their last hangout in Lance and Hunk’s apartment, it felt as though they had texted each other almost everyday. It was mostly comprised of Lance sending Keith memes, but it’s not like Keith had ignored him either. He was always sure to respond with a short message, and even on rare occasions sent something funny back. Even though what Keith thought constituted a meme wasn’t exactly correct, Lance still always enjoyed the effort that he put in.

“I suppose that’s true,” Lance responded, all sarcasm now absent from his tone of voice. “It’s easy being friends with Keith.”

Hunk stacked the plates and cutlery neatly onto his metal tray. “And why’s that?”

Lance shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. We just kinda…”

“Click?” Pidge punctuated.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Lance could feel a subtle heat rising to his cheeks. Grabbing his water bottle and holding it up to his face to combat the sudden increase in temperature, Lance shoved the rest of his belongings into his backpack and collected all the garbage onto his tray with his free hand.

Hunk glanced at Lance suspiciously. “You okay there, buddy?”

“Yupp yupp, never better. Feeling perfect, actually. Thank you very much,” Lance rambled.

All three of them cleared their respective spots at the table and slung their backpacks over their shoulders.

“So, where to?” asked Pidge as she returned the metal tray to the tray return area of the cafeteria. “Is it too early to start researching our presentation topic at the library?”

Lance slid his tray onto the cart next. “I don’t think that’s a bad idea. Hunk, what do you think?”

“I’m always game for getting a headstart on projects. Besides, Altea Library is right next to Dos Santos Hall, and we need to be there for our quantum mechanics lecture anyways. It all works out.”

“Perfect,” said Lance, mind focused on the promise of studying ahead as it conveniently buried any thoughts of Keith. He had some research to complete with his best friends, and he was sure going to do his damned best at it.

Hunk hooked his arms around both Lance and Pidge’s shoulders as they headed towards the library. “Okay, friends, we’ve got a little over an hour to gather as much information as we can on the cosmic microwave background, so let’s get to it.”


	8. We Had A Bonding Moment!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro’s voice broke Lance out of his mnemonic daze. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to visit any time you’d like. It’s nice having you around. Plus, Keith’s a lot more pleasant when you’re here,” Shiro laughed, setting down his messenger bag on the floor near the base of the couch.

“Alrighty folks,” said Lance as he swung his wool scarf over his shoulder, zipped up his jacket, and secured his maroon beanie on top of his head. Hunk and Pidge were lounging on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn between them and a documentary about ancient Greece playing on the laptop. “I am heading out. The play starts at 7:30, so I want to make sure we have time to get all necessary snackage before taking our seats.”

“Have fun, Lance,” said Pidge, waving at him without taking her eyes off the screen. “Tell Keith that he still needs to give me my headband back.”

“Will do.” Lance unlocked the door and caught Hunk’s eyes. “Night. Don’t wait up.”

“Probably will anyway,” Hunk said, waving to Lance until he stepped into the hallway and locked the door behind him. The moment it clicked shut, Hunk sighed. “‘Don’t wait up’ he says. As if I don’t wait up every single time anyway.” Hunk could hear Lance’s footsteps as he walked down the hall, and it was only when they disappeared completely that he turned back to the documentary that he and Pidge had been watching. Only, Pidge had paused it and was leaning into some pillows on the far side of the couch. “Pidge? Everything okay?”

Her expression only worried Hunk more. “I mean, yes? I wouldn’t say that there’s something wrong,” she said, “just that I’ve been noticing… stuff.”

Stuff. That could mean anything, but Hunk had a strong feeling like he knew where Pidge was going with this particular opener. “Stuff like Lance leaving his clothes and books around the apartment again, or stuff as in you feel like Keith and Lance are hanging out a lot?”

Pidge cringed a little as she admitted, “The second one?”

Hunk shut the laptop closed and twisted his body to face Pidge, grabbing the nearest pillow and hugging it close to his chest. “So, you seem to have noticed it too, huh.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that it’s a bad thing,” Pidge began, “but don’t you think it’s kinda weird?”

Hunk reached for his mug of hot cocoa from the coffee table and settled it in between his palms, letting the warmth flow into his fingertips. “I mean, yes and no. It’s a little strange that Lance was able to make friends with Keith _t_ _hat_ quickly, but at the same time, they seem to have bonded so well that it wouldn’t make sense if they weren’t friends,” Hunk explained in between sips of the smooth, chocolatey liquid. “You catch my drift?”

Pidge sighed, nodding slowly, and reached for a handful of popcorn. “Yeah, I’m picking up what you’re putting down.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming,” Hunk chuckled.

“Haha, very funny, Hunk.” Several kernels of popcorn were sent flying in Hunk’s direction. “I’m just a little concerned about Lance, that’s all. We’ve both known him for the better part of two years now, and we know how _attached_ he can get.” Pidge pulled the sleeves of her striped shirt past her fingers, hiding her hands, and tucked her knees under her chin. “I’m just worried, Hunk.”

“I know you’re worried, and so am I, but it’s not like Keith is a bad guy. He’s been pretty cool to hang out with so far, and Lance seems to really enjoy spending time with him. It doesn’t even matter what they’re doing together. I mean, they’re going to see a _play_ , Pidge. Lance might be dramatic, but I don’t think he’s ever seen a play besides those school productions they force you to put on in elementary school.”

“You’ve got a point,” Pidge said slowly. “I don’t know how many times I’ve seen Lance and Keith just studying in the library these past few weeks.”

Hunk smiled softly. “To be fair, those study sessions are about 50% actual studying and 50% goofing off.”

“More like 10% studying and 90% goofing off,” Pidge laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of them crack open a textbook in the study area.”

“That’s a good thing though, I think,” mused Hunk, picking up one of the popcorn kernels and turning it between his fingers. “As much as they’re spending a ridiculous amount of time together, they are getting to know each other better. I don’t know how many times Lance has come home talking about something he and Keith had done that day or a conversation that they had.” Hunk gestured to the new additions on the poster wall adjacent to the couch. “I’m pretty sure Lance came home with three of those when he went to that poster sale with Keith.”

“They’ve come up to me a couple times just to try and settle pointless arguments, but there’s never any animosity. The banter is pretty entertaining,” Pidge leaned back into her corner of the sofa, “and the weirdos seem to even enjoy it.” She grew quiet a moment, no doubt reminiscing on the last time that she had resolved something for them.

Hunk, for his part, recalled Lance and Keith’s last argument pertaining to the correct pronunciation of “GIF”. He smiled to himself at the memory and was overtaken by others just like it. He could recall the four of them making playful bets in Professor Coran’s classroom,  Lance and Keith trading quips in the cafeteria, and drinking coffee with them as Keith and Lance discussed the best ways to approach their flight simulation tests. Even in his memories, Hunk found that Lance and Keith were close, brushing shoulders and teasing one another. It was rare these days to see one far apart from the other. Keith had slotted himself into their friendship effortlessly, and his connection with Lance, the way he made Lance happy, was something that was fascinating just to watch.

The living room silenced as both Hunk and Pidge reflected on the conversation topic at hand. Lance was their best friend. He deserved to be happy, and if Keith was at the root of this happiness, then so be it. Lance was a social butterfly, but it was rare for him to make such a deep connection. Though it was never expected that Keith would be the other party of this friendship, the closeness that both him and Lance shared was most definitely hard to find. Lance had unique relationships with both Hunk and Pidge, and Lance’s relationship with Keith was just as unique.

“Y’know,” Pidge sat up from her reclining position and crossed her legs, “I wasn’t joking that day, the day that Lance formally introduced Keith to us.”

Hunk quirked an eyebrow. “Joking about what?”

The popcorn bowl, now empty, jostled as Pidge reached forward for the fleece blanket on the other end of the sofa. “The whole dating thing. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but what do you think Lance’s intentions are with Keith or even vice versa?” She draped the fuzzy fabric over her shoulders. “They hang out way more than the three of us usually do, and they always seem to be together.”

“Oh, um, yeah. I was kinda thinking about that too,” added Hunk, now fully devoting his attention to Pidge. “As far as I know, he hasn’t explicitly said anything to me. He does get this look on his face whenever Keith texts him that really makes me think that he cares about Keith just a tad more than a friend would. And I mean, Keith is pretty similar. He actually listens when Lance has something to say and doesn’t ignore him. He even remembers the little details, like the exact way Lance takes his coffee or little facts about his family.” Hunk threw the kernel he was holding into the empty bowl. “But at the same time, it’s his private life, and he’s allowed to decide what he wants to share and what he chooses to withhold. I don’t want to pry.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Pidge exhaled. “But what about Lance’s whole thing about soulmates? It’s pretty clear that he’s one of the only people our age that still believes that whole philosophy. I don’t know what Keith’s stance is on it, so I just don’t want Lance to get hurt.”

Hunk placed his hand reassuringly on Pidge’s knee. “I get where you’re coming from, and I obviously want the best for Lance too, but this is something that the both of them are going to have to decide.” Hunk continued, “Yes, we will be there for Lance if he ever wants to talk about it, and yes, we will support him in whatever his choice is, but I think that’s all we _can_ do.”

“Yeah, I know. I just hope that he knows he can come to us for help when he needs to.”

“Right, and that’s what we’ll be ready for,” Hunk agreed. “But right now, Lance seems really happy, and he’s enjoying himself. I don’t think we should stop him from having that.”

“Ah, Hunk Garrett, always the voice of reason.” Pidge relaxed the tension in her shoulders and resumed a more comfortable position.

Hunk flashed Pidge a wink accompanied by his trademark finger guns. “Someone’s gotta do it.” Retrieving the laptop from the coffee table, Hunk reopened the paused documentary. “So what do you say, shall we continue our adventure to Ancient Greece?”

Pidge grinned widely as she snuggled further into the blanket. “Aye aye, captain.”

* * *

“I’m gonna freaking kill you, Kogane!” The words rang clear throughout the apartment as Takashi Shirogane stepped through the front hallway and into the main living room.

“Not if I kill you first, McClain!” Keith challenged.

Shiro shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack. “Now now, boys, haven’t I always said that resorting to murder is never the answer?”

Both boys whipped their heads around to see Shiro leaning against the wall, laptop bag slung across his chest and a stack of what looked like student lab reports in his hands. Shiro always returned from the Garrison at around 4pm in the early evening because he believed that having a home-cooked meal for dinner was essential in maintaining good family relationships. Though Keith found this slightly overbearing at times, he still appreciated the meals and how much Shiro cared for him. If Shiro hadn’t decided to take Keith under his wing, things may not have turned out as ideally.

“Oh, you’re back,” Keith turned his gaze back to the television screen. “Welcome home.”

Shiro acknowledged Keith with a warm smile before shifting his gaze to the other boy in his home. “Lance, it’s nice to see you here again.”

“Ah, yeah, Keith invited me over to play some Super Smash Bros. I hope that’s okay.” Lance smiled nervously. It frankly didn’t matter how many times he was over at Keith’s place, it was still a little odd to see his TA in a non-academic setting. Lance still remembered the first time he went over to Keith’s place, seeing Shiro casually lounging in the living room, watching Netflix. He was so used to seeing Shiro in the usual Garrison staff uniform, that it definitely took him by surprise when he found out Shiro wore t-shirts and sweatpants at home. Though Lance wouldn’t necessarily call it weird, it certainly felt a little unorthodox to interact with his TA in this specific context.   

Shiro’s voice broke Lance out of his mnemonic daze. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to visit any time you’d like. It’s nice having you around. Plus, Keith’s a lot more pleasant when you’re here,” Shiro laughed, setting down his messenger bag on the floor near the base of the couch.

Keith crumpled up the empty chip bag at his feet and threw it at Shiro. “Hey, I resent that.”

“The truth hurts, little one,” Shiro dodged the flying projectile and moved closer to ruffle Keith’s hair.

Keith ran his fingers through his black hair in an attempt to fix the damage. “You’re not that much older than me, Shiro. And you’re definitely not old enough to have hair mussing privileges.”

“Keith, I’ve known you since you were twelve. I think that grants me all older brother privileges,” Shiro corrected as he made his way into the kitchen. Placing the lab reports down on the kitchen island and opening the fridge, Shiro scanned the contents before deciding on the night’s dinner menu. Pasta seemed like a good option. “Lance!” Shiro poked his head out from behind the fridge door. “You staying again for dinner? I need to know how much pasta primavera to make.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to.” Lance got up from his spot on the carpet, plopped the game controller back onto the television stand (much to Keith’s dismay), and joined Shiro in the kitchen. “Need any help? I warn you, I’m not the best chef, but I can definitely be useful if guided properly.”

“Lance, we’re in the middle of a brawl. You can’t just walk away,” Keith yelled from the other room.

“Yes, I can. As a matter of fact, I’m doing it right now. I’m helping Shiro, and to be honest, you should too,” Lance called back at equal volume.

“So,” Lance turned to Shiro after washing his hands and drying them. “What should I do?”

Shiro wiped his hands on the front of his apron. “The recipe’s pretty simple, but it requires quite a bit of prep work. Could you start with slicing the green and red peppers and cutting the carrots into quarter-sized pieces?”

“Sure thing.” Lance rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt and fetched a cutting board from the cabinet and a chef’s knife from the knife block. After thoroughly washing the bell peppers and carrots, Lance set them onto the wooden board and proceeded to slice them into the appropriate sizes, albeit them not exactly turning out uniform.  

Not long after, Keith appeared in the kitchen, visibly disgruntled. He wasn’t particularly happy that Lance had left mid-game in favour of spending time with Shiro. He groaned as he pressed the top of his head to Lance’s back. “Why are you choosing now of all times to be responsible?”

Lance’s grip on the knife tightened as he felt the warmth of Keith’s presence behind him. Now, Keith wasn’t known to be a physical person, however, Lance had come to find out that Keith became a little more clingy when he was in the middle of one of his minor tantrums, such as the present moment. “Hey, be careful. I’m holding a knife,” Lance cautioned.

Keith could only harrumph disapprovingly as he shifted positions and sidled up next to Lance. Fuck it, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. “Fine. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“I’m only following Shiro’s orders. You’ll need to ask him,” Lance tilted his head towards Shiro who was currently lowering the dry pasta into the pot of boiling water. Lance resumed preparing the vegetables, slightly more aware than he wanted to be of the sudden coolness as Keith left his side.

Keith walked over to the faucet and washed his hands before consulting with Shiro. “What is there left to do?”

Shiro handed him a small plastic bag containing a yellow squash and several zucchinis. “If you could julienne these, that would be perfect. When you’re done, take what Lance has, combine it with your veggies and throw it in the oven at 450 for 15 minutes.”

“Okay, got it.” Keith grabbed the bag from Shiro, pulled out the Santoku knife from the cutlery drawer, and set down the materials on the counter space next to Lance. “I can’t believe you roped me into helping out,” Keith whispered to Lance as he dumped the contents of his plastic bag onto the cutting board.

Lance lightly bumped his hip to Keith’s side. “You live here, so it’s fair you do your part. Think of everything Shiro has done for you.”

“Augh, it’s not that I’m ungrateful or anything, it’s really the opposite. You, of all people, should know.” Keith continued to carefully slice the squash and zucchini into identical strips.

“Then why all the grumbling?” Lance queried, brushing the chopped up pieces of bell pepper and carrot from the cutting board onto the aluminum-lined baking tray Shiro had previously placed before him.

Keith stopped slicing for a moment to look up at his friend. “Lance, listen.” The pensive look Lance returned prompted Keith to continue. “I invited you over to have fun, so it just kinda sucks that you’re spending your time here cooking.”

Lance let out a gentle laugh. “And who said I wasn’t having fun doing this?” He flashed Keith a reassuring smile. “I’ve said this since the beginning, Keith. Just spending time with you is fun. It doesn’t really matter what we’re doing, as long as we’re in each other’s company, right?” Lance laid out all the cut up vegetables onto the tray and stepped aside as he let Keith place them on the rack in the preheated oven.

“Ah, yeah, you know what I mean,” Keith stuttered. Did Lance really know what Keith meant? After that first long conversation during Keith’s first visit to Lance’s apartment in which Keith had practically divulged his struggles growing up with no parents, the two of them never got another opportunity to discuss anything of similar gravity. Keith wished he could convey how appreciative he was of Lance and how things appeared so much brighter when he was around. Lance was truly the light at the end of his dark tunnel. “I -, ” Keith started, but before he could continue his thought, Shiro conveniently (read inconveniently) interrupted him.

“Keith! Could you clear the dining table and set it afterwards?” Shiro removed the cooked pasta and ran it through the colander. “I’d ask Lance to do it, but I’m sure you know better where everything goes.” As always, Shiro flashed him the trademark smile. The kind of smile that you just couldn’t say no to. Believe me, Keith has _tried_.  

Keith tried to ignore the minor throbbing in his chest and reluctantly left the kitchen as he muttered a “yes, Sir,” and promptly started to clear away all the papers and other miscellaneous items that had piled up on the table.

As soon as Keith was well out of earshot, Shiro pulled Lance to the side. “Lance,” Shiro began, his voice full of reassurance, “thank you.”

“Um, you’re welcome? I know cooking can be tough if it’s just one person in the kitchen, so I figured I’d help. Especially since I’m over so often.” Lance smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Shiro let out a small laugh. “As much as I appreciate your cooking assistance, that’s not what I was referring to.” The timer on the oven went off, signalling that the vegetables had reached the desired tenderness. Shiro donned the oven mitts and retrieved the tray from the hot oven. “I really want to thank you for being Keith’s friend.”

Lance scooped the cooked vegetables into the pot of pasta. “It’s really nothing. You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I know that you and Keith didn’t have the best beginnings to your friendship, but I am ever so grateful that it’s turned out to be what it is,” Shiro placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “He’s come out of his shell ever since he started hanging out with you, Hunk, and Pidge. I don’t know how much Keith has told you, but he hit a couple rough patches growing up, so now that he has such great friends to rely on and just goof around with, I’m really happy. That’s all I ever wanted for him.”

“Then I’m glad that all of us were able to be friends.” Lance could feel the beginnings of a blush spread across his face.

Shiro smiled. “Lance, you’re good for him. So, thank you for giving him a chance.”

The heat in Lance’s cheeks became much more apparent, and he tried to make it less obvious by repeatedly pressing the backs of his hands to his face. “Ah, it’s no problem,” Lance managed to stammer out.

Seeing Lance’s reaction, Shiro decided to cut the conversation to spare any feelings of embarrassment. At this point, Shiro had finished combining the rest of the ingredients into the pasta and transferred it to a Corningware to be brought out to the dining table. Grabbing the ends of the dish with a kitchen towel, he set it down in the centre of the now cleared table. “Alright, boys, let’s dig in,” said Shiro as he began scooping out generous helpings for both Keith and Lance.

Once all was settled, Keith noticed the remnants of fading colour on Lance’s cheeks. “Dude,” He leaned in closer to Lance. “Did Shiro say something weird? Your face looks a little funny.”  

Without thinking, Lance said the first thing that came into his mind. “ _Y_ _our_ face looks a little funny.” Oh god. That did not come out right at all. The puzzled (and borderline offended) look that Keith gave him was enough to make him want to crawl into the nearest black hole and die of embarrassment. To make matters worse, he could see Shiro try to hide a laugh in his periphery. Lance focused his vision on Shiro and pleaded with his eyes for help.

Understanding Lance’s cry for assistance, Shiro cleared his throat. “Alright, boys, no fighting at the dinner table. Let’s try to enjoy the meal that we all made, hm?” Shiro stabbed several pieces of pasta and chewed slowly, wary of the sudden awkwardness of the situation.

Keith stared down at his plate, rolling a singular penne noodle back and forth with his fork, with only one thought. _What the fuck just happened?_  

* * *

“How about this one?” Lance pulled a heather grey sweatshirt off the nearest rack. “It’s got a more subtle Garrison logo on it. Plus, it’s got that halfway zipper that you like so much.”

Keith left the shelf lined with black and orange mugs and drifted back to Lance, who held out the sweatshirt in front of Keith. He inspected both sides of the sweatshirt before replying, “I guess this one is okay? I don’t know.” He briefly traced the embroidered stitching on the upper left corner. Lance was right. The orange and grey logo was definitely underwhelming, but in a good way. Keith was never one to be gaudy or flashy, so the prospect of buying a sweater with the words ‘Galaxy Garrison’ brandished across his chest didn’t seem all that appealing. Except, he had allowed Lance to drag him all the way to the campus retail store. Keith may have offhandedly mentioned that he didn’t own any Garrison merchandise while looking over Lance’s growing collection of various long sleeves, mugs, and sweatshirts. And so, the very next day, Keith found himself alongside Lance standing in the middle of the Garrison’s retail store.

Keith hadn’t exactly been against going, but Lance had been quite adamant that they go check things out. How could he have said no? Although, now, as the pair of them picked their way through the array of Garrison labelled apparel, Keith started to feel as though maybe it was less about having the  _ability_ to say no and more about actually wanting to go with Lance.

“Okay, so we’ll pass on the sweatshirt.” Lance plucked the shirt out of Keith’s hands and hooked it back on the rack. “Not a problem. There’s a lot more here than just-”

“Lance, I never said I didn’t like the sweatshirt,” said Keith, laughing at his friend’s hastiness. He had to admit, the half-zipper was kind of his style. His hand was halfway to the sweatshirt when Lance’s fingers curled around his wrist, stopping him. The smile on Keith’s face fell into one that was more teasing as he turned to look at Lance very slowly. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Lance’s attempt at casualty didn’t go unnoticed, but Keith held his tongue. Lance let go and stuck both his hands in his pockets instead. “Just relax, dude. You don’t have to force yourself to be into it or anything.”

Keith sighed, returning his hand to his side. “What makes you think I’m forcing myself? I know I wasn’t exactly into the whole Garrison merch thing before, but this is actually kind of fun. I mean, if we didn’t come here, how would I know that the Garrison was trying to make money off of constellation thermoses that glow in the dark?” Keith pointed over to the shelf full of patterned thermoses and water bottles adorned with the same celestial stickers that Keith could have sworn he’d seen at the Dollar Store. “Glow in the dark, Lance.”

“To be fair,” said Lance, his face lighting up with renewed energy at Keith’s enthusiasm, “there will always be a soft spot in my heart for glow-in-the-dark stars. I used to have them in my room back at home. I had them peppered all over the ceiling.”

“Really?” The pair of them walked over to the shelf and Lance picked out one of the taller water bottles. “So, you were always a space kid?” Keith quickly plucked off a small package of the glow in the dark stickers while Lance wasn’t looking.

“Of course,” Lance grinned, and Keith felt a quiet pleasure at knowing that he had been the one to cause that smile. “Weren’t you?”

“Oh, I definitely was. When I was younger, my dad and I would stargaze a lot. We practically lived in the middle of the desert, so there were a lot of clear nights where we’d sit on the porch and just stare at the night sky.” Keith looked at the patterned stars decorating the bottle in Lance’s hand fondly. “And if we were feeling adventurous, my dad would take me up to the roof and teach me how to spot the different constellations. Not exactly the _safest_ place, but it made for some great memories.”

Lance returned the water bottle to the shelf. “That honestly sounds like a lot of fun. I wish my parents took me stargazing.” Lance looked at Keith earnestly and stuck out his pinky finger. “Promise me we’ll get to do that together someday?”

Keith hooked his pinky with Lance’s. “Beat me in Iverson’s flight simulation next week, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“That is not playing fair, Kogane. You know I can’t ever beat you at those,” Lance whined and playfully hit Keith’s shoulder. There was no questioning Keith’s piloting ability. The skill level required to maneuver those tight twists and turns while simultaneously being able to fire at the practice targets accurately was something that only Keith Kogane could do.

“Then I guess you’re gonna have to say goodbye to stargazing,” Keith smirked.

Lance crossed his arms in indignation. “You meanie.” Lance strode back to the clothing racks and pulled a few pieces off the bars, laying them across his arm. He grabbed a pair of grey joggers, the grey sweatshirt from before, two different t-shirts in the Garrison’s standard grey and orange, and a black windbreaker. “Just for that,” he shot Keith a look which Keith merely returned with the amused quirk of his eyebrow, “we’re adding this.” He nabbed a bright orange jacket with the words ‘Galaxy Garrison’ stitched across the front in big bold letters.

“And all of that’s for me?”

“You bet.” Lance ushered Keith towards the fitting rooms at the back of the store, nudging him forward with his shoulder. “You have to wear all of these.”

“All of them?” Keith scanned the large pile of clothes Lance had collected.

“Yes, Keith,” said Lance patiently as they stood awaiting an open room. “All of them.”

“At once?!”

“Keith, this is called layering. It’s fashion. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Lance sifted through the clothes on his arm. “You’re going to need to wear these all with the grey t-shirt and then all of them again but with the orange one.”

Keith ran a tired hand down his face. “Lance, nobody is going to know I’m wearing a t-shirt under all these clothes.”

“But _I’m_ gonna know, Keith.” Lance gestured to one of the now empty fitting rooms. “Look, one just opened up. Just shut up and trust me. Go try it on.”

“Don’t make me regret this.” Keith trudged into the fitting room and threw Lance one last suspicious look before locking the door behind him. It only took 20 seconds before Keith spoke up again. “Hey, Lance? What goes on first?”

Lance chuckled to himself and walked a little closer to the fitting room. “The t-shirt, obviously.”

There was a pause, and Lance could hear some shuffling behind the door. “And then?”

“The sweatshirt.” Hangers clinked against one another from within the changing room.

“Um, okay. And then?”

“Keith, do you seriously not know what comes after the sweatshirt?” Lance leaned against the wall next to the room.

Keith groaned in exasperation. “You gave me a windbreaker  _and_ a jacket, Lance. They serve the same purpose. Just tell me, which one do you want me to put on next?”

“The windbreaker first, then the jacket,” Lance stated a matter of factly.

“You just _had_ to pick this jacket, huh?” grumbled Keith.

Lance couldn’t help but laugh again. “Don’t question the master, Keith.” Lance reached into his coat pocket to grab his phone but paused to add, “Oh, and don’t forget the pants.”

“I’m not going to forget my pants, Lance.”

“Just thought I’d double check.” He pulled out his phone and went straight to his apps. Opening Snapchat, Lance readied himself for the moment Keith stepped out of the fitting room. “You almost done in there?”

“Yeah, one sec, just zipping up the jacket.”

As soon as the door swung open, Lance hit the shutter, capturing a perfect portrait of Keith’s disgruntled face. “Looking good, Kogane.”   

Keith turned to look at himself in the mirror on the other side of the door. “I look ridiculous, Lance.” He gave himself another once-over. “I might as well be a walking advertisement for the store with the amount of stuff I have on.”

“I mean, we wear Garrison merch to represent the Garrison, so that’s kind of the point?” Lance replied as he captioned the photo and posted it. “Besides, you don’t look _that_ bad.”

Keith indicated to the Garrison logo emblazoned on his chest. “Are you kidding me?”

“Maybe you’ll like it better with the grey t-shirt inside rather than the orange one,” Lance pulled the zipper of the sweater to expose the collar of the shirt inside. Even if Lance had picked the worst jacket he could pick for Keith, the boy didn’t look bad in the rest of the ensemble.

“You can’t possibly be asking me to try on all these items again with a different shirt on the inside.”

Lance smiled triumphantly. “Wow, Keith, I didn’t know you could read minds.” Before Keith could say another word, Lance turned him around and pushed him back into the fitting room. “Okay now, chop chop, I wanna see the other outfit. You don’t need my help this time, right? I’m sure you remember the order.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Keith shut the door and fastened the lock.

Lance shook his head and stepped away from the fitting room. Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he stretched his arms and let his eyes drift through the store. There were a few students browsing through the display of onesies at one end of the store while a couple of girls were deciding whether to buy a Garrison sweater or a rugby shirt. Lance was perusing the shelves of water bottles when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

“Lance! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Lance turned and was greeted by Matt Holt. It had been a while since Lance had actually seen Matt, but the surprise was a welcome one. “Matt? What are you doing here?”

“I had to come by to pick up some of the journals I requested for my Honours thesis.” Matt waved the small pile of articles in his hand. “How about you? What brings you to the store?”

“Oh, I’m just waiting for Keith." Lance gestured to where Keith was no doubt changing into the next outfit. "He’s in the fitting room right now.”

“Keith? As in Shiro’s brother? That Keith?” Matt’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t realize you guys even knew each other.”

“Yeah. We actually have a fair number of classes together.” Lance smiled fondly. “We’re friends.”

Matt perked up at that. “Speaking of friends, are Hunk and Pidge with you too? There’s something I want to ask my sister.”

“No, actually. I’m just here with Keith,” Lance replied, more softly this time.

“Ah, I just assumed you guys were together. The three of you were always joined at the hip, calling yourself The Three Amigos,” Matt chuckled.

“We’re not _always_ together,” Lance retorted. Sure, he spent a majority of his time with Hunk and Pidge, but that didn’t mean they were inseparable.

“Actually, you guys kind of were. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of you without the other ever since you all started school here,” said Matt thoughtfully. “Even if, by some circumstance or another, you guys were separated, you knew where everyone was.”

Lance bit his lip. Over the last couple of years, they had gotten into the habit of keeping each other updated with their whereabouts to ensure that they’d be able to meet up after. When had that stopped? They still did things together, didn’t they? “They’re my best friends,” said Lance  instead, “so I guess it makes sense we did everything together.”

Matt took a quick glance at his watch. “Oh crap, I’m running late for a class. If you see my sister today, could you let her know I’m looking for her?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Lance automatically replied.  

“Thanks a bunch. I guess I’ll see you around. Have fun with Keith!” Matt waved goodbye as he jogged towards the exit.

Lance waved back half-heartedly and let his hand drop once Matt was out of sight. Could Matt be right? Sure, Lance spent a lot of time with Hunk and Pidge. They were all friends. It was normal to want to hang out with friends. But the problem wasn’t that Lance didn’t want to hang out with his friends. Instead, he was hanging out with one friend in particular.

When was the last time he had watched a movie with Hunk and Pidge or even had a proper meal with them? The mere fact that he couldn’t remember seemed to introduce an anxiety that manifested itself in thoughts of inadequacy. Was Lance a bad friend? Had he spent so much time with Keith that he had forgotten his other friends? If that was the case, he surely didn’t mean for it to happen.

“Lance? Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Keith gently shook Lance’s shoulders. “Did something happen?”

Lance tensed at Keith’s touch and tried to compose himself. “No, it’s nothing.” Trying his hardest to smile, Lance shoved his hands in his jean pockets and looked up at Keith. “So, how’d everything go in the fitting room? You find something you like?”

Fishing out the grey sweatshirt from between the t-shirt and the windbreaker and laying the remainder of the clothes on a nearby table, Keith flashed Lance a genuine smile. “You were right, McClain. I did like this one the best.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Lance smiled meekly. “The checkout line doesn’t seem too long, so you better get yourself over there before it’s too late.”

“Yeah, good call,” said Keith. He looked between the checkout line and Lance, and it seemed as if he might say something more before Lance spoke up.

“Alright, get a move on. I’ll wait for you by the door. Don’t forget to use your student card to collect points for discounts next time.”

Lance dragged his feet to the main entrance of the store and stared at the tiles, tracing the outline with the tip of his sneakers as he waited for Keith to finish paying.

Keith returned in a timely fashion, new sweater in hand. “Okay, let’s go,”

The both of them exited the building and made their way to the nearest intersection as Keith pulled out his phone, ready to compose a new text message. “You want me to ask Shiro what’s for dinner tonight?”

“Um, I don’t think I’ll be coming over today. There’s something I need to do at home,” Lance apologized.

“Oh. Okay.” Keith’s expression immediately fell, and Lance could feel the guilt eating him whole.

Lance grabbed Keith’s forearm reassuringly. “I’m sorry, but it’s important. Maybe next time? I promise.”

A beat of silence passed between them. Keith’s eyes roved Lance’s face looking for… _something_ but when he couldn’t find it, he nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure, do what you gotta do. Text me if you need help though, okay?” Keith hiked his bag over his left shoulder before setting off to cross the street.

“I will. Thank you.” The words sounded insincere, empty, as if someone else was saying them. Lance’s voice didn’t even sound right in his own ears, his own guilt festering in his chest as Keith departed. Praying that Keith hadn’t noticed anything amiss, Lance headed home. Lance was so consumed with his thoughts that he hardly noticed that he had arrived at the apartment.

Pulling out the keys, he unlocked the door and let himself in. Hunk was sitting at their kitchen table, his textbook open in front of him, and was no doubt working away on some of the homework questions that Professor Coran had assigned in their last class. Homework, however, was the least of Lance’s worries.  

“Lance, you’re home!” Hunk smiled invitingly as he capped the pen he was using and laid it across his notebook. Hunk looked so innocent, so pure, so unassuming. “How was shopping with Keith?”

“Fine.” Lance hooked up his jacket, kicked off his shoes, and trudged over to the table.

“Are you sure?” Hunk asked, turning in his chair. “You don’t look so good.”

“Oh, Hunk,” Lance’s lips trembled, the words spilling out before he could control them. “Hunk, I’m so sorry!”

Hunk immediately closed his textbook and pushed it to the far corner of the table. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s going on, Lance? What happened?”

Lance fully extended his arms, spanning half the width of the table, and rested his cheek on the wooden surface. “Hunk,” Lance began without looking up, “Am I a bad friend?”

“Where’d you get such a ridiculous idea like that?” Hunk rested his hand on Lance’s back. “You’re one of my best friends. How could I ever consider you a bad friend?”

“Ugh, I don’t know.” Lance adjusted his position so that his forehead was now flush against the table. “I’ve just been thinking about it,” Lance continued, his voice now partially muffled.

Hunk rubbed soothing circles into his friend’s back. “Did someone say something to you? Did _Keith_ say something?”

“No,” Lance shook his head, “he didn’t.”

“Then, what happened?” asked Hunk carefully. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Lance exhaled, taking a moment to organize the chaos in his head before returning an answer. “I bumped into Matt at the store.”

“Like, Pidge’s brother, Matt?” Hunk quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yeah.” Lance peeked up from his position on the table, and Hunk offered him a smile.  

Hunk picked up his pen and began twirling it between his fingers. “Oh, that’s surprising. We hardly see him anymore with him doing his thesis whilst juggling his TA job.”

“Yeah, I know. I was surprised to see him too.” Lance straightened his back before propping his chin in his left palm.

“So, did Matt say something then?”

“Not explicitly, no,” said Lance, staring down at table. Were the wood-grain patterns always this interesting? “Basically, he was wondering why I’m not hanging out with you or Pidge and hanging out with Keith instead.”

Hunk frowned in response. “That doesn’t sound like a Matt thing to say…”

Lance’s head snapped back up. “Okay, he phrased it much nicer than that, but you get the general idea.”

“Right, okay,” Hunk’s countenance shifted to one of confusion, “and this relates to you being a bad friend how, exactly?”

Lance sighed. He was hesitant to give his thoughts a voice, but Hunk deserved the truth. “I just kept thinking about how I spend almost all my time with Keith now, how much I seem to be _changing_ , and then I tried to remember the last time the Three Amigos hung out, and I couldn’t come up with anything, and now I feel really shitty.” The confession still stuck in his throat, and Lance quietly cursed to himself. Even admitting it wasn’t enough to make the guilt leave completely. And why should it? Hunk had every right to be mad at Lance.

Hunk, on the other hand, merely softened at Lance’s admission, his warm hand resting on Lance’s shoulder in comfort. It just made Lance want to cry. “Lance…”

He swallowed the tightness in his throat and continued. “I just don’t want you guys to think that I’m abandoning you for someone else. I love you guys too much to do that.” Lance’s voice was almost at a whisper now, for he feared that if he spoke any louder, the thoughts would echo around the room and make them even more real.  

The smile that overtook Hunk’s face felt like absolutely sunshine. “Lance, it’s okay.” At Lance’s skeptical look, Hunk chuckled softly. “Honestly, I’m really glad that you and Keith are developing such a close relationship. He was definitely more of a lone wolf character when we first met him, but after all that time with you, he seems so much happier.”

“But-” Lance began in protest, but Hunk silenced him with a look.

‘“Dude, don’t beat yourself up over it. I know you have a tendency to overthink things and allow things to completely overwhelm you, so I’m telling you right now that everything is okay.”

“Are you sure we’re okay?”

Hunk stood and pulled his friend into a hug. “Lance, we’ve always been more than okay. Nothing will change that.” Lance hugged him back tightly as the urge to cry returned. The weight in his chest grew lighter.

“You’re the best, Hunk,” Lance said.

“Of course I am!” Hunk gave Lance a comforting squeeze before pulling away. “Now go wash up. I made garlic knots for dinner.”

Lance shook his head, incredulous. “How is it that you decided to make my favourite food on the day that I’m feeling down?”

Hunk merely shrugged. “Probably with the power of friendship.” He nudged Lance towards the kitchen. “Now be quick! The garlic knots are fresh, and they’re not going to eat themselves.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Lance laughed in return, walking towards the kitchen sink.

Lance stuck his hands under the faucet and washed them while Hunk began to clear the table. As they prepared for dinner, Hunk talked about the difficult astronomy questions he’d worked on while Lance hazarded playful guesses at them. It didn’t take them long to fall into their happy back and forth, discussing anything and everything that came to mind. Hunk avoided asking Lance about his outing with Keith, and for that, Lance was thankful. The warmth of Hunk’s hug lingered over dinner, and their conversation had carefully pushed Lance’s guilt off to the side where he couldn’t feel it.

Which was perfect for Lance. With his mind clear and positive, Lance wondered if he really had just been overthinking things. Hunk hadn’t found their friendship lacking over the last couple of months and, with any luck, neither had Pidge. Matt’s observation had come from an innocent place.

It didn’t have to mean anything, Lance decided as he readied himself for bed. He smoothed out the edges of his face mask, pushed back his wet hair with a headband, and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Everything was fine, wasn’t it?

As if on cue, Lance’s phone beeped on his nightstand. Lance left the bathroom and headed towards his phone. A new text from Keith sat on the screen. He took a deep breath and tapped on the unopened message.

 **Keith**  - started a conversation with Lance McClain - 

 **Keith  
** _You haven’t texted me since you got home. Is everything good?_

Lance’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard, fumbling to find the right words to type. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t just tell Keith what happened with Hunk. He was, after all, kind of the main character of the issue. Lance decided on fabricating a white lie.

 **Lance  
** _Yes! Everything is fine and dandy. Thanks for the concern._

 **Keith  
** _Ah, that’s good to hear. You had me scared for a second._

 **Keith  
** _Did you still wanna Skype tonight?_

 **Lance  
** _Um, I think I might just head to bed if that’s okay with you. It’s been a long day, and I really need my beauty sleep._

 **Keith  
** _Sure thing. Then, goodnight, Lance._

 **Lance  
** _‘Night, Keith._

Lance clutched his phone tighter in his hands as the feelings of guilt returned. This wasn’t Keith’s fault. But, if what Matt said held any truth, Lance was going to have to reevaluate how he was divvying up his time. The thoughts that had subsided for the duration of dinner crowded his brain again for the second time that day. He peeled off his face mask and tossed it into the garbage bin next to his nightstand. Patting the remaining serum into his skin, Lance settled against the headboard of his bed.

Both conversations with Matt and Hunk replayed in his mind in perfect recall, almost as if Lance had filmed both encounters and was watching the playback. Lance knows that Hunk would never make a big deal out of anything. He knows that with all his heart, and yet, the inescapable thought that perhaps Hunk _had_ felt left out in all this continued to linger. The answer was theoretically simple; spend more time with Hunk and Pidge. However, that meant cutting time spent with Keith, and that wasn’t something Lance wanted either. Feeling defeated, Lance slid down into his covers, resting his still damp hair on the pillow. With his brain churning like this, there was no way he was going to get any sleep.


	9. You Can't Give Up On Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everything will work itself out, Lance. You don’t need to rush. Do things at your own pace, and take your time. Patience yields focus.”

Lance hadn’t exactly intended to seem so out of it. He attended his classes, ate lunch with his friends, and studied at the library. On the surface, it seemed like everything was going back to normal. The problem was, though, that Lance had now taken to avoiding more conversations with Keith. He stuck closely with Hunk and Pidge, but when they did hang out, he was distant and often lost in his own thoughts. He felt hollow, like his soul was scooped out from his body and all that was left was an empty shell. His friends, gems that they were, avoided asking him what was wrong, but the concern displayed across their faces was hard to miss.

And it wasn’t just his friends. Just the other day, Lance had been approached by Shiro in the halls. After exchanging their usual pleasantries, Shiro had inquired after his health, no doubt sensing Lance’s unease. Lance had been eager to assuage his TA’s concern. After all, it wasn’t Shiro’s job to help him with his interpersonal problems. Still, Shiro seemed to see through him and had offered Lance a reassuring smile. “Well, if you need to talk,” he’d said, “my door is always open. You know my office hours.”

The exchange had left Lance feeling worse than before. His own TA was worried about him. His friends were worried about him. Hell, Lance was worried about himself. He was changing, becoming someone that he could hardly recognize. He’d never been the type of person to pull away from his friends, to focus all his energy on only one person. Sure, when he’d tried dating people, he’d always ended up preoccupied with them, trying desperately to ensure that they were worthy of the time he’d put in on his potential soulmate, but that hadn’t happened in a long time. Instead, he’d been focusing his time on _Keith_.

And Keith... he was worthy of that time. He was an amazing friend, an amazing _person_. Everything about Keith made Lance want to be around him.

It wasn’t like Lance could exactly talk to Keith about his dilemma. What was he supposed to say? How could he even begin to explain that what he felt for Keith, his genuine interest in his new friend, was something so uncharted that he worried he didn’t have enough time to spend time on other things? Keith had fit into his life so seamlessly, and every day that he spent with Keith, no matter how enjoyable, was another day he wasn’t looking for his soulmate.

He couldn’t talk about it with Hunk or Pidge either. They didn’t feel like their friendship was affected, and even if they did, they wouldn’t admit it. They were too kind to him and wouldn’t serve as a reliable source of advice. Lance needed to talk to someone who knew him, but also someone who was able to give him unbiased, honest advice. Which only left one other person.

“Shiro,” said Lance, standing at the threshold of his TA’s office. “I need to talk to you.”

Shiro looked up from the book he was reading and waved Lance in. “Lance, good to see you.”

“Thanks.” Lance stepped into Shiro’s office and dropped into the chair across from Shiro’s desk. He removed his backpack and tried to calm his breathing.

Shiro slipped a bookmark in to keep his spot and gave Lance an encouraging smile. “I see you took me up on my offer.”

“Yeah,” Lance nodded, “I kind of needed someone to talk to.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for. What’s on your mind?” Shiro neatly folded his hands and rested them on the desk.

“Shiro, I have an honest question.” Lance twiddled the drawstring of his hoodie in between his fingers, focusing on the smooth plastic. He needed something to keep him grounded. “And it’s kind of personal,” Lance muttered, eyes downcast. For some reason, he found it hard to meet his TA’s eyes. But, Lance was here to sort his shit out, and Shiro was his only hope. Shiro was an adult, and that meant he knew adult things, presumably.  

“Alright,” Shiro paused for a few seconds, “I’ll do my best to help.”   

The hesitation that Lance picked up in Shiro’s voice made him question whether or not he was doing the right thing. Shiro gave really good advice, and Lance knew that. But, was going to Shiro for something like this way out of line, and possibly even asking too much? Lance was hesitant to continue, but he pressed on in hopes of saving his own sanity.

“Do you have a soulmate?” The phrase lingered in the air, and Lance swore he could feel the thickness of the atmosphere fill his chest, threatening to asphyxiate him.

Shiro smiled at Lance before answering lightheartedly. “I haven’t quite found that person yet. If it happens, it happens, but I’m pretty focused on my career right now, so I’m not trying to rush anything.”

Despite the fleshed out answer that Shiro provided, Lance could only fixate on one particular aspect of the explanation. Shiro had said he hadn’t found his soulmate yet. Lance looked up from his spot. “And, how old are you?”

“I’m not sure how that’s pertinent,” Shiro laughed softly. “But if you must know, I’m 25.”

Lance reclined in his chair, his head creating a small ‘thunk’ as it made contact with the wall behind him. “Oh my god, you’re so old and if you still haven’t found your soulmate yet, that means I’ll _never_ find mine!” Lance wailed.

Shiro got up from his seat at his desk and resigned himself to the sofa chair next to Lance. “Hey, calm down.” Shiro’s voice was soothing, but not enough to get Lance to regain his composure.

The disarranged thoughts remained the driving force of Lance’s emotional rollercoaster. “How am I supposed to be calm right now? I just don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Lance, I know you hold this belief really close to your heart, but would it be so bad if soulmates weren’t real?” Shiro posited.

“Well, yeah! I’ve devoted so much of my time trying to find mine, but thinking that they’re not even out there? That’s devastating,” Lance croaked, trying to keep his voice from faltering. Now was not the time of a full-blown crying fest.

Patient and ever-so composed, Shiro reached out for the box of tissues on the desk and placed it closer to Lance. “I understand, Lance. I’m in no way saying that soulmates aren’t real, it’s just that it’s more of a dated concept, you know?”

Lance peeked at Shiro through blurry eyes. “I know,” his voice came out utterly crestfallen. “It’s possible for me to be wrong about it. It’s just, I’ve hoped for it for so long. This is  _soulmate_ stuff, Shiro, it’s what I’ve been dreaming about forever. If I am wrong, then I’ve been wasting my time looking, and if I’m not, then I’m wasting my time not looking for them.” He ran a rough hand through his short, brown hair. “I’m scared that I won’t find them,” he admitted, “that I won’t find anyone.”

Shiro nodded slowly. “Lance,” he began gently, “is there anything else about this situation that you’re feeling uneasy about? I feel like maybe this isn’t totally about just finding a soulmate.”

“There was a little more to it,” admitted Lance. He looked at Shiro, who nodded encouragingly, and Lance bit his lip. Would it be right to tell Shiro that his own brother was the source of Lance’s worries? He’d already come to Shiro once with his concerns about Keith. It felt wrong to do it again and with worries that were not academic in the slightest.

“I won’t assume anything until you tell me,” said Shiro suddenly, “but I do want you to know that whatever it is, it’s not something I would share with anyone else.”

“Even if it’s about Keith?”

Shiro didn’t seem phased in the slightest, as if he’d had a feeling Lance wanted to speak about Keith all along. “Especially if it’s about Keith.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, Lance. Whatever you’re feeling is worth discussing, especially if it’s causing you stress. You have my confidence,” promised Shiro. “If talking to me will help, then I’d like to try my best.”

“Thanks, Shiro.” Lance took a measured breath and tried to steady himself. “I feel like I’ve been really putting my all into finding my soulmate, keeping myself open to opportunities and things like that, you know? But recently, I haven’t been doing any of that,” said Lance, thinking back to the time he’d been spending with Keith, “and I’m so frustrated. I should be taking the time to keep looking for my soulmate, but I’m not! I’m spending time with Keith!”

“You spend time with your other friends as well, don’t you, Lance?” asked Shiro. “From what I can tell, you’re all together a lot.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same. We all spend time together, yeah, but for me and Keith… when we hang out, it’s different.” Lance cringed at his wording. “I feel like that came out wrong. _Anyway_ ,” Lance laced his fingers together on his lap, “I think we’ve been spending too much time together. I mean, there are other things I should be doing, other people I should be spending time with!”

Shiro took on a more confused expression. “Do you not enjoy spending time with Keith?”

“Of course I like spending time with him! He’s my friend,” Lance looked over Shiro’s shoulder to the row of books on the shelf, “but I’ve been so conflicted about it. Ever since I’ve met Keith, I haven’t been doing what I would usually do with that kind of time. What if I’ve missed my chance to be with my soulmate while I was hanging out with Keith? What happens then?”

“Lance-”

“And then, I think about Keith, and how he really doesn’t deserve to have a friend that half-asses a friendship. Like, I really enjoy hanging out with him and just being, you know, together, sometimes, but I feel so torn. I shouldn’t have to worry about this. Searching for my soulmate should be the greatest adventure of my life, and spending time with my friends shouldn’t make me feel guilty about it. I’ve always been afraid that I’ll never meet my soulmate, but it’s never felt as real to me as it feels right now.”

“First, I’m going to need you to take a breath,” Shiro instructed. When Lance’s audible inhale and exhale were deemed acceptable, Shiro continued with, “I think it might be helpful to take a look at why you feel like you _should_ be looking for your soulmate, and then, beyond that, why you shouldn’t be spending time with Keith.” The air in the room felt heavy, and Lance fidgeted under Shiro’s scrutiny. “You have goals and expectations for yourself, and that’s fine, but even _you_ don’t seem happy about those goals. You think you _should_ be looking for your soulmate, but I want you to consider how you want to feel about this. I know you’re conflicted, but think about what you have right now and what you’ve gone through. What do you want to feel?”

“About what?”

“About your soulmate and about Keith.” Shiro’s voice was firm. “Whatever it is, what you do want from it?”

What did Lance want? He didn’t want to feel so conflicted about finding his soulmate. He didn’t want to feel torn about hanging out with Keith, who was like the missing piece in an almost completed puzzle. Seemingly two separate issues, Lance still had trouble identifying what tied them together. The two ideas were supposed to be mutually exclusive. Feelings of confusion crawled their way to the forefront of Lance’s mind.

“I...I don’t know, Shiro.” Even though a tsunami of words had completely taken over Lance’s thoughts, his brain and his mouth refused to cooperate.

“Think about it like this, Lance.” Shiro put his hands together, letting the tips of his fingers meet. “How do you want to feel? Not what you _think_ you should feel, but rather how you actually _want_ to feel.” Lance’s returned silence gave Shiro grounds to continue. “I know this is all quite confusing for you, but until you can identify what it is you want out of this, you’re going to continue to put yourself through a lot of unnecessary torment.”

Lance sniffled and wiped a stray tear at the corner of his eye. “I know. That’s why I was hoping you could offer me some advice. You always seem to know what to say, and I trust your opinion.”

“Thank you for trusting me.” Shiro smiled, lightly patting Lance’s shoulder. Lance returned a small grin, the best smile he could muster in the moment.

“Listen,” Shiro’s smile slowly faded and a more serious expression took its place. “I’m not going to sit here and tell you that finding your soulmate is going to be a walk in the park. It might be a tough process. However, one thing that I want you to remember is that whoever makes you their choice is extremely lucky because they are getting themself an awesome person who’s poured their heart and soul into the soulmate searching journey.”

Lance scrunched up the tissue in his hand. “What do you mean the person who chooses me? We’re talking about soulmates here, Shiro. Fate, destiny, the core principles of the soulmate phenomenon.”

Shiro looked at Lance intently. “When it comes to true love, finding your soulmate, it’s all about someone who chooses you, really.”

“What?” Lance’s voice was small and teetered on the verge of breaking. The small seed of doubt that had been planted the first time 8-year-old Lance was challenged on the existence of soulmates started to bud.

Ever since he was young, Lance’s mother had told him the story over and over of how she and his father met. The signs of soulmate-hood were unmistakable. The electricity, the new senses, the colours, everything was just like how the books said. Your soulmate was undeniably yours. The connection you felt to each other was unique. Some were tied by threads while others had names, but regardless of the method, it was always clear; the universe provided someone.

Shiro walked over to the bookshelf at the far end of the room and pulled out a relatively thin book. He held it out to Lance before sitting back down. “Here, I think this’ll be helpful.”

“What is this?” Lance turned the book in his hands so the front of it was facing him, right side up. He let his thumb graze over the glossy title. _The Soulmate Principle: Fact or Folly_. Lance’s chest tightened, as if somebody had grabbed his heart and wrung it dry like a towel.

“It’s a short book that compares the traditional concept of soulmates with the now more modern thought,” Shiro answered.

Lance started to raise a hand in objection, but Shiro continued to press on. “It doesn’t argue one side or the other. It’s more of an informational read, if anything. I just feel like it would be helpful for you to understand the other perspective, Lance.”

“Um, alright. I’ll give it a lookover.” Lance slid the thin book into the front pocket of his backpack. “Thank you, I guess?”

Shiro clarified the purpose of the reading in hopes of mitigating Lance’s apprehension. “I’m not giving it to you to confirm or deny what you already believe about soulmates. You have your own view of them, and I’m not interested in changing that. However, instead of worrying about not finding your soulmate, perhaps it would be best to focus on the people in your life now.”

“You’re talking about my friends, aren’t you.” Lance sunk back into his seat.

“Your friends care about you, Lance. I know so. Even Hunk and Pidge came to me to discuss how you were acting a little differently.”

Lance could only hang his head in response. So his friends  _had_ noticed.

“Everything will work itself out, Lance. You don’t need to rush. Do things at your own pace, and take your time. Patience yields focus.”

Getting up from his seat, Lance secured his backpack onto his shoulders and gripped the door handle. “Thanks, Shiro.” With that, Lance exited the small office and started home. When he was finally outside, he could feel his phone buzz in his pocket.

 **Keith** : - started a conversation with Lance McClain - 

 **Keith  
** _I’m headed to Altea Library to study for a bit. Should I save you a seat?_

The thought of seeing Keith in this moment seemed like too much for Lance to handle. He was an emotional wreck and having to confront the main source of his stress was not a good idea. Leaving the message unanswered, Lance stowed his phone away and continued his trek home, tears threatening to fall again.


	10. Jealousy, Thy Name Is Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Keith, for someone who you say ‘exists in hypotheticals’, they surely are doing a good job of getting you heated.”

“Shiro?” asked Keith, knocking on the door of his brother’s office. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’ll be honest, Keith,” said Shiro, waving Keith in but not looking away from his paperwork, “I’d almost think that I was popular with how often my students come to visit me.”

“A lot of other students been seeing you recently?” asked Keith curiously. He took a seat across from Shiro and set down his belongings, his jacket and backpack haphazardly strewn onto the couch.

“Some more than others,” admitted Shiro, “but it’s fine. I’m happy to help.” He wrote a couple of sentences at the end of the document he was working on before adding it to the completed pile at the corner of his desk. Standing up to stretch, Shiro finally looked at Keith and his professional smile melted into a personable one. “What’s up, Keith?”

“I just needed some advice on something.” Keith brought up his legs onto the chair and crossed them.

“And it couldn’t wait till I got home?”

“I mean it could have, but I think that the sooner I figure out what to do, the sooner I can fix,” Keith gestured to some unknown thing in the air, “whatever is going on.”

“So, what _is_ going on?” Shiro inquired.   

Keith did not hesitate to tackle the problem head on. “I think I’m being ignored.”

“Ignored? Why? Who’s ignoring you?” Shiro tilted his head, a questioning expression on his face.

“I’ve texted Lance over 20 times the past three weeks, and he hasn’t responded to a single one of my messages.” Keith retrieved his phone from his sweatshirt pocket to show Shiro the string of sent messages. “That’s weird, right? It’s not just me?”

Shiro scrolled through each unanswered text with a frown fixed to his face. “Hm..that is a little strange. Did anything happen between the two of you?” Shiro returned the phone to Keith. “There must be a reason why he’s ignoring you, right?”

“I mean, if there is, I don’t know it.” Keith stretched out his legs and slid so far down his seat that his chin touched his chest. “Have _you_ spoken to him recently?”

The office chair squeaked as Shiro pulled himself closer to his desk. “Lance came in about a week ago, but I haven’t seen him since.”

“Oh god, not you too,” Keith fretted.

Shiro cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“I asked Hunk and Pidge if they were in contact with Lance, and they said he still talked to them.” Keith groaned into a nearby cushion.

“Right...and your point is?”

“Shiro, it’s only _me_ he’s ignoring.” Keith pressed a hand to his chest in emphasis. “ _Me_. Hunk and Pidge are his best friends, sure, but you and Lance don’t even really talk to one another.”

“Keith, Lance has his own reasons for talking to me. I am the TA of the class you both share.” Shiro explained.

“I bet it’s not even about school,” Keith scoffed. “Was it about soulmates?” Keith knew that the concept of soulmates was always something Lance had held in top priority. It was consistently mentioned in fleeting moments every time the two of them hung out. Nevertheless, Keith was very aware of Lance’s borderline obsession.

“Keith, you can’t put words in my mouth,” Shiro objected.

“See! You didn’t even deny it,” Keith bargained, pointing a finger at Shiro. “It _was_ about soulmates, wasn’t it?” Goddamn that Lance McClain.

“Keith…” warned Shiro, but Keith persisted. 

“Shiro, I’ve known you for eight years. You can’t lie to me.” Keith shook his head, frustration leaking into his body. “Of course it was about soulmates. He’s always talking about it, so why wouldn’t he talk about it with you? It’s like his lifelong dream to find his soulmate, a soulmate that he is certain exists. Just thinking that they don’t make him nervous.” Keith was brought back to the conversation he had had with Lance over two months ago. “I get that he’s believed in soulmates his whole life, but this person technically only exists in hypotheticals.”

Shiro leaned forward and propped both his elbows onto the desk, clasping his hands together. “And that bothers you?”

“Obviously,” Keith articulated. “How could it not bother me?”

“Keith, answer me honestly, are you jealous?”

Subtle anger seeped into Keith’s veins. “No. Why would I be jealous?” Keith stressed as he threw his hands in the air in indignation.  

“There’s really no need to get so worked up,” said Shiro instead, his composure completely unaffected.

“I’m not getting worked up,” protested Keith, more than eager to prove Shiro wrong. But once he began to try and justify himself, the weak argument he’d begun to concoct slowly faded. “I just..”

“Keith, for someone who you say ‘exists in hypotheticals’, they sure are doing a good job of getting you heated.”

“That’s exactly the point, Shiro,” said Keith, trying desperately to cling to something, anything, that could support him. “This ‘soulmate person’ probably doesn’t even exist, but Lance devotes so much of his time to finding them when he could be spending that time doing so many other things!”

“Like what?” challenged Shiro. “Finding a soulmate is important to Lance. You know that. Doesn’t he have the right to decide how he wants to spend his time?”

The way Shiro posed that question, careful and heavy, gave Keith pause. He was right, of course. Lance was his own person. He could do as he pleased. And yet, Keith felt that early fury remain in his gut, poised as if in wait for something. “I suppose.”

Shiro sighed. “Look, Keith. If you think that Lance would be better off spending his time doing something else, then you clearly think there’s a better alternative.”

He… Yes, Shiro was right. There were better things that Lance could be doing. There were so many things they could have already done in the time that they’d been separated. “There probably is!”

“And what exactly would that be?” asked Shiro.

Keith faltered again. “I don’t know,” admitted Keith, before switching speeds and remembering that Hunk and Pidge had also voiced their concerns about Lance’s strange behaviour. “He could be spending more time with his friends?”

The flat look that Keith received was unlike any other he’d ever seen from Shiro in his lifetime. “Keith, I’m not stupid. I know you’re talking about yourself.”

Keith allowed the blush to burn across his cheeks. “So what if I am?” He blurted out. It was useless, it seemed, trying to hide this feeling from Shiro. But it was the truth. “Is it wrong for me to want to spend time with him? I’m the only one he’s excommunicated, so I’m allowed to be angry.”

Shiro shook his head, managing to remain calm despite the edge of exasperation in his voice. “I’m not saying you’re not allowed to be angry, but I think you need to understand why you’re angry in the first place.”

Keith groaned. “Shiro, I feel like we’re talking in circles. Just tell me what to do.”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Keith,” said Shiro, his voice clear and calm. “This is a problem you have with Lance, so you should take it up with him.”

“I would if he would actually talk to me!” Keith bellowed, the frustration returning with a vengeance. However, a look from Shiro had that feeling lowered to a simmer. It was a look of scolding, of immense power. It was enough to tell him that he needed to cool down.  

Shiro’s measured breath had Keith’s rapt attention, and in the words that followed, managed to extinguish Keith’s fury entirely. “Keith, I know you,” Shiro began, full of the kind of confidence Keith had always craved growing up. “If you want something bad enough, you’d do anything to get it. It’s obvious to me that you really cherish this relationship with Lance,” Shiro smiled at him fondly, “so it would only make sense if you were willing to put in the effort to keep it.”

“Shiro, he’s my friend,” said Keith, more tired than anything. “I’m going to put in the effort.”

“I know that you’re friends, but you’re also friends with Hunk and Pidge.” Shiro’s smile turned sly. “ _I’m_ willing to bet that if either of them pulled this on you, you would not care as much.”

“I…” The truth of that statement settled firmly in Keith’s chest, slipping down into his heart to embrace it. “Yeah.” Keith nodded slowly and returned Shiro’s smile with a tentative one of his own. “You’re right.”

Relaxing into his chair, Shiro took a long, self-satisfied swig of his water as if rewarding himself for surviving his conversation with Keith. “Then haven’t you already answered your question, Keith?”

* * *

With a new plan in mind, Keith quickly grabbed his belongings and dashed out the door. He ran as fast as his feet could take him, not caring about the mud caking up on his shoes from the rainstorm. Within 10 minutes, he was knocking at Hunk and Lance’s apartment. Using his fist, Keith knocked on the door a solid three times before it opened. Of course, the person he wanted to see wasn’t the one to open the door.

“Keith,” Hunk began. “What are you doing here?”

The water droplets in Keith’s hair fell as he pushed his way into the apartment. “I need to talk to Lance. Is he home?”

Hunk offered Keith a towel for his hair. “Yeah, he is, but he hasn’t left his room for the past couple of days. I don’t know if he’s willing to talk to anybody right now.”

“Doesn’t matter. I still have to try.” Keith walked the familiar path from the living room to Lance’s bedroom. He inhaled deeply before tapping lightly on the closed door. Breathe, Keith. Breathe.

“Lance? Are you there?” No answer. Keith rapped on the door again, a little louder this time. “I know you’re in there. Open the door. Please.”

“Go away. I’m thinking.” The voice that came from behind the door was Lance’s, but he sounded so different, so broken. Keith hadn’t expected it to be this bad. In his whirlwind of emotions, Keith didn’t realize how much Lance would be impacted by this. Was Lance equally as hurt as he was? However, that still didn’t negate the problem. Lance was the one who unreasonably cut him off.

Keith stepped closer to the door. “What could possibly take you three and a half weeks to think about?” he asked, holding himself back.  

“Just go away. It’s not your business,” Lance cried from the other side.

Keith placed his hand on the doorknob. “I’m about to make it my business, Lance.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Lance sighed. “Please just go home, Keith.”  

Keith released his grip on the door handle, afraid that suddenly imposing into Lance’s room would only make matters worse. “There’s no way it’s nothing. You’ve been locked away in your room for what seems like forever. It’s like you think we don’t notice when you’re gone. We miss you.” Then, softer, just as the thought occurred to him. “What happened to _us_?”

“ _You_ happened!” All at once, the door to Lance’s room swung open, and Lance stood before Keith in his pajamas and bathrobe. His eyes were red rimmed, and his hair a tousled mess. Their time apart, it seemed, had somehow been kinder to Keith than it had to Lance. “Ever since I met you, everything’s been different. My life was fine before you came waltzing in.”

Keith roared in retaliation, the retort coming to him easily. “ _You_ started it! _You_ were the one who wanted to hang out in the first place. _You_ were the one who insisted we be friends.” Keith could feel a burn in his eyes. The more he raised his voice, the more he wanted to cry.

At this point, Lance was quiet. He looked past Keith and when he turned, he could see Hunk and Pidge waiting nervously in the kitchen. Keith mimicked Lance’s movement, curiosity getting the better of him. Upon spotting Hunk and Pidge’s gaze, Keith quickly pushed Lance into the room and locked the door behind them.

They stared at each other for a moment, before Lance broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” Lance began gently, his voice drained of all anger. “I didn’t know how much it would affect you.”

Keith sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Lance down next to him. “How could it not affect me? I’ve gotten so used to being in your company, and it just doesn’t feel right when you’re not around.”

Lance’s expression suddenly changed to one of genuine shock. “Wait, what do you mean it doesn’t feel right?”

“It’s frustrating, Lance.” Keith let his gaze wander over to the photo of Lance’s family that sat on the same nightstand it had been on months ago. “I don’t know how to explain it,” Keith said. “It’s like a part of me is missing, y’know? Over the past 5 months, we've spent so much time together that it's hard to imagine you not being there. We’ve basically been joined at the hip, and you go and pull a stunt like locking yourself away for three weeks. It's just been tough for me to adjust. I'm always hyper aware that you're not around and frankly, it just feels empty without you.”

“You too? I thought that was just me?” Lance mumbled. The atmosphere in the room had now changed completely. Both boys had mellowed out, allowing them to focus on what the other was saying, their minds less clouded by the pollution of negative emotion.

Keith looked to Lance curiously. “What do you mean?”

“That emptiness you were talking about? I think I’ve felt that,” said Lance, before amending it with, “I mean, I have been feeling it. I feel like we were together so much, and then I didn’t know what to do when you weren’t here. Like it was wrong, somehow. I never really paid attention to it until we stopped, you know, hanging out. And after that, it just got so much worse the longer we were apart; _I_ felt so much worse. I missed you, Keith.” Lance gently leaned into Keith, placing his head on Keith’s shoulder.

Keith felt the dangerous symptoms of hope overcome him. “What are you trying to say, Lance?

“Listen,” said Lance quickly, “I know you don’t believe in this stuff, but just hear me out oka-?

Keith cut in, his voice smooth and insistent. “It’s not that I don’t believe,” he said slowly, “it’s just that I never saw myself fitting into that mold. My own parents were soulmates, yet it didn’t work out.” Keith looked at his empty hands, then at Lance’s brown ones sitting in his own lap. “How could the universe possibly design one person meant just for me?

Lance lifted his head from Keith’s shoulder to look him in the eye. “I thought soulmates were a silly idea to you all this time?”

“Maybe I thought that at first, but ever since you started asking about them, I’ve been starting to think about it more.” Keith leaned back onto his palms and looked to the ceiling. “No one else thinks it’s relevant anymore, but you were so adamant about them being real that I asked Shiro to help me look into it.”

Lance froze beside him, mouth slightly agape. “Wait, was  _t_ _hat_ what those papers were for? The papers Shiro gave you?”

The bed creaked as Keith adjusted his weight, pushing himself further onto the mattress. “I mean, yeah. You know that Shiro and I are close, and he seemed to be the only person I could go to about the situation regarding my family. So, I asked him to do a little research and he gave me what he thought would be useful to me.”  

“Did you find anything?” Lance asked hopefully.

“I definitely learned a lot, and my perspective still stands,” stated Keith. “But here’s the thing, for me, it doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t change the way I feel about my family, or soulmates,” Keith felt himself soften as he added, “or you.”

Lance's heartbeat caught on Keith's words, but he tried not to dwell on what Keith seemed to be implying. Well, he tried and failed. “What do you mean, ‘it doesn’t matter’?” Lance sputtered, turning his whole body towards Keith.

“Let me clarify. It’s not that it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but rather that regardless of what research says, I still believe in personal choice,” Keith explained. “I didn’t get to pick my family, and I realized that what happened between them wasn’t ideal, but it was still their choice. They chose to be together and they chose to separate. It’s still difficult for me to grasp the idea that the universe has somehow created a perfect person for me, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I don’t believe that person is out there. I would like to think that the person I end up with is someone of my choosing. If the universe has something to do with it, so be it. Ultimately, it is my choice.”  

Lance continued to prod for clarification. “What are you trying to say?”

Keith’s smile was warm, the resolve he’d gained from his conversation with Shiro spilling over. “Whether the concept of soulmates is real or not doesn’t negate you being my first choice.”

Lance shook his head, disbelief and anticipation warring across his features. “Why?" Lance's voice broke. "Why would you pick _me_?”

Keith reached for Lance’s hand and interlaced their fingers together. “Lance, it couldn’t have been anyone else.”

“Doesn’t that mean you believe in soulmates then?” asked Lance curiously, unable to hide the blush that crept across his cheeks.  

Keith shrugged as if that was the least of his worries. “If that’s how you want to look at it, yeah. But know that even if the universe decided that someone else was destined to be with me,” Keith pressed a light kiss to Lance’s hand, “I would always choose you.”  

Lance nodded, thoughtfully. “That actually reminds me of something Shiro said.”

“Shiro?”

“Yeah. I went to see him over a week ago to ask him for some advice, and he said that finding my soulmate was really about finding someone who will choose me.” Lance resumed his position leaning on Keith, seemingly comfortable with this new spot close to him.

“He’s right,” said Keith, turning to touch his lips to the top of Lance’s head. Being affectionate with Lance was turning out to be a lot easier than Keith had ever thought it could be. “I think it is about the people who choose you, and I’m being honest when I say that you’re my first choice.”

The rate at which Lance turned red would have been worryingly fast if Keith hadn’t found it endearing. “You can’t just say that.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” asked Keith, testing the waters. “That I love you, you’re the light of my life, and I couldn’t live another day without you?”

Lance stared at Keith, a tense beat passing between them, before grinning widely. “ ...well I certainly wouldn’t _mind_ if you said that.”

Keith rolled his eyes and shoved Lance away from him. “Geez Lance, you're unbelievable. Why are you like this?”

“You know you love me.” Lance winked playfully at Keith’s bemused expression. He tugged himself back to Keith's side like a magnet.

They exchanged fond looks, fingers still twisted together between them. “Maybe I do.”

“Maybe I do too.” Lance pressed his forehead against Keith’s, the anticipation in the air compounding. Before Lance could do anything to close the distance between them, Keith broke contact.

“Wait, I brought something for you.” Keith fumbled around in his bag before retrieving a small package of glow-in-the-dark stars. “I thought these would look really good in your room. I bought them the day you made me try on all those awful outfits. I guess now's a time as good as ever to give them to you.”

Lance giggled as he opened the package and poured the stars into his hands, inspecting their every detail. “They’re beautiful,” he breathed, eyes twinkling with child-like excitement. “Thank you.”

“I know we promised to go stargazing one day together,” said Keith, “but for now, these will have to do.”

“I didn’t take you for the type to be a sappy romantic, Kogane.” Lance set the stars on the nightstand and turned to face Keith more directly.

“It’s not sappy, it’s meaningful,” Keith protested.

Lance rejoined their hands. “Alright, alright, it’s very meaningful.” He leaned in, kissing Keith sweetly and pulling back with a smile. “Thank you.”

Keith lightly pecked Lance’s lips in return. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

The room had a silence about it. With the lecture hall thick and full of unparalleled student confusion, Lance McClain found himself, again, at the center of attention (his not-so-secret goal all along) and waited patiently for an answer.

“I’m sorry?” asked Professor Coran, more amused than shocked at Lance’s question.

“If your soulmate dies,” Lance repeated patiently, “do you get a backup soulmate?”

“Mr. McClain, we’re well aware of your concern," said Professor Coran, "but I think we all knew that I meant questions regarding the final exam.”

Lance leaned forward in his seat, ignoring the giggles of his friends and the exasperated sigh from Keith, who sat with his left hand captured in Lance's right. Lance couldn't help the grin that overtook his features, chest flooding with feelings of contentment and the everpresent urge to tease Keith. “It’s just that Keith thinks pineapple on pizza is good. I'm out. This is dumb." When Lance heard Keith laugh quietly to himself, Lance carried on with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "Can I kill my soulmate and exchange him? Do I get a backup?”

**Author's Note:**

> To my amazing co-writer Padfoots_Pawprint:  
> I cannot BELIEVE we finally finished this thing! From the initial planning phase to our last work session, I am extremely thankful for the experience we got to share. We've grown so much closer due to work we've put into this, and I am truly grateful that you decided it would be worth it to co-write something with me. You are no doubt the best. I love you <3.


End file.
